Challenge to the Mandate of Heaven
by KaleidoscopeKreation
Summary: AU pre-TPM. Only men can become Jedi. It's a fact of the galaxy, something unquestioned... up till now. With a war raging between Jedi and Sith, one ex-Jedi's daughter decides to defy the Law and fight- but can she keep her secret when she falls in love?
1. Prologue

Prologue

In the Jedi council chamber, at a few minutes past midnight, a blue hologram transmitter crackled on. The eleven Jedi seated in the room looked up, and a small green alien leant forward.

'The transmission play,' he instructed a technician who knelt beside the projector. The technician nodded and pressed a button.

'Supreme Chancellor of the Republic.' A holographic alien appeared above the projector and began to speak. 'I am sending this transmission to notify you of reformations being undergone in the Outer Rim territories. I and several of my neighbouring planets wish to form a federation, the aim being to set up a stable economic network and reduce the piracy and crime in the outer rim. By banding together we hope to be able to maintain a more law-abiding trade network while promoting economic growth in the Outer Rim. We wait on your approval to sign and legalise the treaty.'

The projector flickered off. The Jedi, arrayed in a half-circle, turned to the three senators who sat opposite them.

'We don't like it,' one of them said flatly.

'A harmless, even praiseworthy move it seems,' the green alien said, 'to try and bring some organisation to these territories.'

'That is what troubles me, Master Yoda,' the senator said. 'The Outer Rim has always been a nest of crime and disorder. The crime lords hold the real power; how could any move against them have got this far?'

'The Senator is right,' said a tall, thin-necked Jedi. His name was Yariel Poof. 'Whatever the motive behind this request is, all is not as it seems.'

The Senator nodded. 'But we don't know what else to suspect,' he said. 'We can see no motive for one of the crime lords to make this move, either in earnest or as a cover for anything else. We were hoping you could offer some intelligence on who might be behind it.'

'Yes,' Yariel nodded. It was a learned habit that he used in human circles, and was oddly mesmerising, rippling down his long neck. 'As you will have noticed,' he went on, 'tonight we Jedi number only eleven, and not twelve.'

'I have.'

'A month ago one of our number left the temple on a mission in the Outer Rim – to the same system that this transmission came from, in fact. We have received no transmissions of any kind from him since he entered their airspace.'

'And...?'

'Suspect Sith involvement, we do,' Master Yoda said.

All eyes turned to him. The little alien sat hunched in his chair, his feet not reaching the floor. Not much to look at, he had sat on the Council for longer than anyone else in the room could remember, and it was rumoured that in a battle of the Force none had ever stood against him, though he had not wielded a lightsaber in earnest for years. And now, when he spoke of the Sith, a deadly silence filled the room.

'The Sith, Master Yoda? I thought they were extinct.' one of the Senators said at last.

'Felt a disturbance in the Force we did,' Yoda answered. 'For this reason did our brother go.' He fixed his eyes on the Senator. 'Never are the servants of the Dark side gone from the universe, Senator. Tell you so, many will; yes, even Jedi. But where light there is,' he glanced around the room at the other Jedi, 'there also shadow must be.'

'We believe that this 'Treaty' must have been forced by the Sith,' Yariel Poof explained. 'A federation of Outer Rim planets will provide them with a good base from which to strike into the Republic.'

'Then we shouldn't allow it,' one of the Senators burst out, trying to steer the conversation back to ways and means, away from this shapeless fear.

'No strength has the Republic in the Outer Rim,' Yoda said. 'Merely outlawing the treaty, deter them will not. The appearance of diplomacy this move may have, but in truth it is not. War it is.'

'Then we should prepare an army. But if this enemy has a number of Force-sensitive fighters, I fear we will not be able to stand against them in the long run.'

'Do our part, the Jedi will,' Yoda promised. 'And now, Senators, good night.'

The three senators stood and bowed, then filed out of the room, taking the recorded message with them. The Council members remained silent for a moment, each lost in his own thoughts, then one of them said:

'Master Yoda, we are not soldiers. Our only hope would be to gather the Order and confront the Sith, but as long as they remain unidentified there are too few of us to spread among an army.'

'It is clear we need to expand our force,' said another Jedi, Ki-Adi Mundi. 'In peace time we only select the infants with the very highest midi-chlorian counts. I propose we call up young men with above-average counts to undergo basic Force training. That way we will have a large pool of men with some knowledge of the Force to serve as officers. Any who show particular aptitude can become Padawans and train to become full Jedi, for as you know, brothers, midi-chlorian count at birth is not an unfailing predictor of eventual worth.'

'Thank you, Ki-Adi,' Yoda nodded.

'Who shall we put in charge of the training?' someone asked.

'Assuming our missing brother is indeed dead, there is a seat on the Council that needs filling,' Yarael said. 'I propose we create the new position of Master of the Conscripts, and elect a new member to fill it.'

'But Master Yarael,' Ki-Ai broke in, his tone argumentative, 'the training of conscripts is surely the task of a young man, and a Council member should have had time to gather wisdom.'

'Then we must choose carefully indeed, to find someone capable of fulfilling both requirements,' Yarael answered. 'What young Knights of merit are there?'

All the Jedi bowed their heads, considering. Who was there who had the streak of leadership within him? Who, given such a task, would be strengthened rather than daunted or corrupted? Finally Master Yoda spoke.

'Mace Windu send for.'


	2. High Count

**A/N:** Hi again!

Yet another co-written story, me and True Colours like last time. It is an AU fanfic. Doesn't it have a spiffy title that I won't explain unless you review and then I'll tell you?  
Right. Here is the full blurb, 'cause there wasn't enough room in the summary (grrr, I wish summaries could be longer!...):

**In an alternate universe, where only males were allowed to be Jedi, the evil Sith attack the republic. In the following war, many men with slight force-sensitivity are conscripted into the Jedi Order - and unknown to nearly everyone, one girl also follows her dream of being a Jedi, her only intentions being to help her father and her galaxy. But Elana didn't bargain on falling in love... and when she does, can she keep her secret? Her decision, if right, will change the galaxy forever... **

**Challenge to the Mandate of Heaven**

**By Essence of Gold and True Colours.**

***************************************************************************************************************************************

**Chapter 1**

Elana sighed, and switched off the datapad. She had known doing it would not make her feel any better, but Heck, what difference did it make? She might as well know.

It sucked, though.

Elana Sango was the only daughter of an ex-Jedi, Shan Sango. The man had been injured during a battle, and in the diversion he had created, it had been won. He was something of a hero. However, the leg injury he had sustained had not been treated rapidly enough, and as a result, he had a permanent limp. It was clear that he would no longer be able to be a Jedi Knight.

It was while he was recovering at hospital that he had met Elana's mother, Renee. 'The only thing that made it worthwhile,' Her father used to tell her, 'was seeing her face every day.' They had fallen in love, and Elana's father had left the Jedi order to marry Renee, and go live on Alderan with her. A clever and diplomatic man, he had risen to be Minister of Science, bringing his wife and daughter prosperity and the title of Lady.

Elana, from infancy, had shown signs of force-sensitivity. Her parents had encouraged her powers, sending her to a Lycee from the age of four to learn fencing, and, when she was older, letting her learn Yoga to increase her control and meditational skills. They considered it to be a form of self defence, and saw no danger in it; despite her obvious skills, they knew their daughter would not be taken from them, and be turned into a knight of the Republic.

For at that time, no woman could become a Jedi. The code prohibited it.

So no test had been taken of Elana's midi-chlorian count at her birth, though every baby boy in the republic with half her aptitude would have been trained. Though her skills had been nurtured and blossomed from birth, her parents had never considered that she might be a Jedi. They saw her skills as a bonus, a way to defend herself, not a career.

The Jedi didn't notice them at all. To them, she was a girl, not to be acknowledged other than as a being that they might need to protect. Up until that time, Elana had also thought of her talent in that way.

Until war broke out in the republic.

The Sith, usually peaceful in their territory of deep space, had rebelled. With the help of the Trade Federation, they had put together a massive droid army, and had begun to fight against the Republic – and the Jedi – on many planets. At first, it had seemed like a few small scuffles on the Fringe of the republic.

'There is no need for us to worry about a few outer rim arguments!' the prime minister of Alderan had laughed, when he had come to dinner with them one day. It seemed that most of the core officials agreed with him, and at first refused to take the matter seriously.

But the trouble rapidly swelled, becoming more dangerous by the day and the fighting coming closer and closer to Corusant. When the fighting spread to Naboo, a situation of Galactic war was declared. Every Jedi was needed, and the Midi-chlorian level needed for acceptance into the republic had been drastically lowered, to bring in Conscript Jedi soldiers. Suddenly, every boy under twenty with even slight force-sensitivity was being drafted in.

It was at this time that Elana had tested her midi-chlorian count. She searched it on the datanet and came up with an official-looking site – _Calling all boys! Could YOU be a Jedi? Test your blood, and find out NOW!_

She had sent a scan into the website immediately, and pressed the touch screen eagerly, impatient as she waited for her blood sample to be processed.

Nothing could have prepared her for the result. She read the it through several times in disbelief. _YOUR COUNT IS: 15750! You qualify for training by 10750! Touch HERE to send your details to the Jedi temple:_

Elana switched the datapad off, sighed and stood up. She now knew that she qualified to be a Jedi – by an enormous amount. If she had been a boy, she would have been taken at birth, and trained to fight with a lightsaber, meditate and harness the force, save and protect, and be of true use to the Galaxy. And what was she doing here? Living in the lap of luxury, unaffected by the war, and unable to help in any way!

'Just because I'm not a _boy_!' Elana said aloud, throwing the pad onto the bed behind her.

She strode from her room, not slamming the door with great effort, and walked down the corridor. Left, right, left again, and across from the Palace where her family lived to the Parliament buildings on the other side of the wide park. This part of land, where diplomats, Senators and politicians lived, had always been her home. She prided herself in knowing nearly everyone who lived and worked in this part of the city, and usually she greeted most people she met by name. Today, however, she swept past the guards and servants, ignoring their hurt and resentful faces. Today she was in a bad mood; she felt pretty hurt and resentful, too.

After five minutes of walking in the familiar maze of corridors, she reached the room she had been heading for. It was deep into the building, in the richest, but most elite sector, not an obvious door to a stranger, but a place that she always associated with comfort when she most needed it.

She knocked on the door of her father's study.

Almost immediately, the door opened. Shan, who until that moment had looked stressed and bored, let his face break into a happy smile.

'Elana, what a gorgeous surprise! Come in!' Elana entered her father's workplace, looking around the walls and tables. Though she had been there many times throughout her childhood, the room never ceased to fascinate her.

As head of science, Shan kept in his study many interesting artefacts and items, mostly from Alderan, but some from other, remote corners of the galaxy. An original point one hyperdrive; an antique medical droid; the skull of an enormous, long-dead beast; a copy of the first picture of Alderan from Space; an amazingly tiny stuffed pygmy wampa. The walls were covered in elaborate diagrams and theorems, and one side of the room was completely filled with shelves of old, hand-written books. Elana glanced around eagerly, to see if there were any new additions for her to examine, but seeing none, her gaze fell, as it always did, to the object in a glass case on her father's desk.

His old lightsaber was her favourite part of the room. It was not his master's saber – he had lost that in his final battle - but merely an inferior Padawan one. To her, though, it had always looked impressive enough – shiny, silver and handcrafted, with a few scratches that told exciting tales, and brought back forgotten memories. Her father had been able to remember, when pushed, how every dent and chip had been made; some causes were funny, others frightening. When she was younger, they had been her bedtime stories.

'Dad, why didn't you tell me before?' she knew he would know what she meant.

Her father, reading her face and following her gaze, sighed. The smile faded from his face. 'I suppose I knew that you would find out someday, Elana. Just not so soon.'

Elana turned to him, letting her frustration out. 'Yes, Dad. Not so soon; when I'm twenty-five and married, and can't give up my life to be some kind of hermit, living a dream? Or even better,' she continued, letting all her anger out, 'that _never _I find out? That I devote my life to being a successful Politician or Scientist, and _never _know that if I'd been a man, I could have been a Jedi _Master_? Fifteen _thousand, _dad! And you didn't tell me!_'_

Shan held up his hands in surrender. 'I know, I know, Elana! We shouldn't have.' He rubbed his forehead wearily. 'We just didn't want you to get hurt, chasing after something that the system will never let you have. Get hurt trying to be a Jedi.'

Suddenly, Elana felt a rush of pity. It was true. Her father wasn't to blame. It was the Jedi themselves. Since her father had left to marry her mother, they had only twice contacted him. She knew that some of his best friends had been Jedi, and though he would never tell her, it must have hurt.

'I... I'm sorry dad,' she began tentatively. 'You meant well.'

Her father looked up at her. 'I meant you to have all the choices you could, Elana. I had you trained in Yoga and fencing, and nurtured your force sensitivity, so if you chose – though I did not want you to – to follow, you would have the best chance you could, outside of the temple. But I didn't tell you how high your count was, because I didn't want to feel that you _had_ to do it.'

Elana broke in, trying to explain. 'I don't feel obliged to-'

'If you had been a boy, they would have come for you straight away. But you were a girl. I was so grateful you had a choice. I hoped that you would be able to become a scientist, or Politician, or even a professional fencer,' here he briefly smiled.

'You are allowed to fall in love, too, Elana.' She squirmed for a moment – it was always difficult talking about this kind of thing with her father. 'You can get married freely, without leaving your whole family, friends, and way of living. I know that you will not be able to become an official Jedi, but you can still use your skills in whatever you do. Do you see, Elana? I wanted you to be able to choose between the way of the Force, and another – more free – life. I never had that choice – but you do, and I don't want any knowledge to make you lose that. The life of a Jedi is one of the hardest that there is. You must understand me, daughter.'

She understood that her father was speaking in utmost seriousness. She knew also that he was saying nothing but the truth. Supposing she had been a Jedi? It seemed so wonderful at first, but then she thought about it. She would never have any friends or family, apart from her fellow Jedi. She would lose her opportunities to do anything else, for the rest of her life.

And what if she, like her father, fell in love? She knew and resented the attachment rule that bound all Jedi. It had caused her father so much pain. It would have done the same to her.

'But I have always dreamed of it, Dad.' Elana whispered. But there was barely any real fight left. She knew her father was right. If she chose the way of the Force, she could have nothing else.

'I am sorry, Elana.' Her father's voice broke on the last word.

She rushed to him, and he hugged her silently for a while, stroking her hair like he had done when she was a little girl. 'It's alright, Elana, ssshhh,' he murmured.

Eventually, Elana stood, wiping the last tear from her face. 'I'm sorry, dad. It wasn't fair of me to spring that on you like this, especially when you have so much work.'

Shan smiled wanly. 'I'll be able to get on with it better if you leave me to it, dear. You're all right now, aren't you? Go and have fun outside. It's too nice a day to spend inside if you aren't chained to a computer, designing energy-efficient weapons.'

***

Elana tore off her fencing mask in a spray of sweat, wiping her hair back from her forehead. It was very long – past her waist – and she though she kept meaning to cut it, she never had the heart to.

Across the piste, her partner, Behra took off her own and grinned. They both gave an exaggerated flourish with their sabres, then walked forward and shook hands in a mock-formal manner.

'Wow, Elana! During that first bit, you were going at me like a Psycho!' Behra pushed her own shining blonde hair off her face, still looking like she'd just left a salon.

Behra was her best friend and sabre partner, and confidant in almost everything. She was very funny, confident and a total chatterbox – Elana found it easy to be with her, in nearly every way. It was nice to let someone else do all the crazy talking, and just be. But that was mostly the problem with Behra. Conversation.

'So,' the girl continued, 'I'm still not sure what to wear for that at the Republic day event tomorrow night, Bail will probably be there, and I want to impress him.' Behra gave a love struck sigh, and Elana suppressed a groan. When talking with Behra, eventually all roads lead to Bail Organa. Still, talking about Behra's problems was better than discussing her own.

Elana let herself drop into 'excited girl' mode. 'I think that you should keep it subtle – not enormous headdresses or anything like that. No sequins or fancy braids. Remember what happened last time you wore your hair too big!' It had caught in a door – quite something, considering how big the doors were at the palace.

'I know, right?' Behra sighed. 'Of course, when we do my hair, we have to make space for my tiara. I think the diamond one, what about you?'

Of course, it was made no easier that Behra was Princess of Alderan, and loved being in the Public eye. Being her best friend dragged Elana into the limelight more than she would like, and of course, Elana had to help her get ready for every social event that they went to.

'Yes. That's not too big. I honestly think that you should keep it simple, Behra. Sometimes, less is more.' They both knew that really, Behra could have worn dishrags and turned it into a fashion trend if she wanted. But it was fun – and easy – to talk about.

'But Elana, what about you? You can't just be shy forever! You should really consider some of the boys in our circle.' Behra said earnestly. 'If you showed any interest, I'm sure that you would have a boy in a week flat!'

Elana sighed. They had had this conversation so many times. 'Behra, I honestly just don't like any of the boys that I know as anything more than friends. It's different for you – you really like Bail. But I don't love anyone yet, so it's not really worth trying to look amazing.'

'But just for form's sake, El?'

'Look. I. Don't. Love. Anyone. Case closed, Behra. Change the subject.'

'Fine.' Behra paused for a second, and then said, 'Why were you in such a bad mood this morning?'

Elana could not stop her growl this time. Of all things, she had to ask about _that_!? Because that was the only thing that Elana couldn't confide in Behra about: the Force. Elana knew that for all her social skills and loyalty, she would not understand this. "So, you have a high midi-chlorian count. Too bad you're a girl, or maybe you could've been a Jedi! Oh well, who wants to be one anyway? They just end up getting killed, and they can't have _Romance_! What is _with _that? I don't get what you're so angry about, El." That would have been what Behra said, if she had heard about why Elana was really in a bad mood. So Elana had to lie, like she always did to Behra when it came to Jedi stuff.

'I guess I just feel... angry at my dad.' She might as well tell as much of the truth as possible. Elana hated lying.

'Tell me about it,' Behra sympathised as they left the salle, and entered the changing rooms. Behra had her own Fencing area, made for her when she decided to take up the sport, and they always practised there. 'Why in particular?'

'Oh, just old stuff, like, partly about my fencing, and then about some other stuff.' Her father might have mentioned fencing once that morning... 'It wasn't really his fault, we made it up, but I still feel quite angry and confused.' _Understatement, not lie._

'Poor you, it sounds quite serious.' _How little you know! _'Still, you sorted it out, that's the main thing.' She shook her head, as if shaking off the unhappiness from both of them. 'So,' she said, mercifully changing the subject, 'Shall we go up to my room? We can get my fashion droid to pick our outfits.'

***

The two girls spent a long time in the room, changing clothes, styling hair, laughing at ridiculous combinations they had programmed into the fashion droid. Eventually, though, they made the decision on what they would wear – mostly Behra's ideas, with a little influence along the way from Elana to stop the ensembles becoming too extravagant.

Elana stood in front of the mirror that covered a whole wall of the room, examining her reflection. She had a skinny, boyish figure, not as feminine as she would have liked, but versatile in what she could carry off, and muscled from her fencing and yoga. That was how she and Behra had met – on the piste, both taking sabre – and in many ways it was what bound them together, other than the fact that they had moved in the same circles for their whole lives. Elana had lost count of the times that she had been in this situation – getting ready for a party with Behra, the princess.

'Elana, what do you think I should do with my hair?' Behra was fretting in the swivel chair on the other side of the room.

Elana stood behind her, and flicked through some holograms being projected by the droid. 'I think you should do it like this,' she showed Behra she image she had found. Elana began to braid her friend's hair, as she continued. 'Two running plaits, meeting at the back, and then some diamond pins here and there...' she began to execute the style, pinning the hair she needed. Behra sighed.

'You are so lucky you have darker hair, pins always show on me.' She sighed. Elana's hair was streaky, and often changed colour, depending on the seasons. It mostly stayed a dark blonde, brownish bronze, and was slightly wavy.

'My hair's no darker than my eyes!' Elana joked, carefully joining the braids.

'Wow, _such _a reliable measure,' Behra replied, 'We might as well check the weather outside.'

Because Elana's eyes were her most interesting feature. They were like her hair, but more so – depending on the weather, they changed colour. Her father said that it was to do with pressure, and the way the atmosphere was moving. When she was younger, on days where the weather was changing, she would stand in front of the mirror, fascinated, watching her eyes change from bright hazel, sparkling in the sun, to a dark, deep brown, as it was covered by a cloud. Behra always made her wear a lot of eye make-up, to show off what she called Elana's 'hot feature'.

'We mustn't forget to put on some of that new mascara I got from Endor.' Behra mused just then, as Elana tied the last plait.

'Always with the mascara, Behra. But I've got to go now; I want to turn in early so that I can stay up late tomorrow. I'll meet you by the big cherry tree, tomorrow at ten.' Elana began to change, and was in her ordinary clothes and out the door before Behra could emotionally blackmail her into staying longer.

The truth was, Elana needed to think. She probably would go to bed early, but she knew that sleep would not come easily to her tonight. There was too much to think about, so much that had happened that morning. She knew that nothing had changed, except now she knew; but still, her discovery hung over her like a cloud. She would have been a Jedi.

So what now? Wait the war out, knowing that she could help in a way that more useful than any political influence? Ignore her knowledge, of what could have been? Or... but there was no other option. As her father had said, she couldn't waste her life, chasing after some Jedi dream that would not – could not – ever be a reality. The fact that she knew made no difference... did it?

As she had predicted, she could not sleep. She lay in bed, sighing every now and again, tossing and turning as she attempted to figure out the wrangled mess her future had become. When sleep did eventually come to her, her dreams were no less easy...

_She was fencing, slashing at her opponent with her blade, which seemed to glow in the darkness. From what she could see, she seemed to be at a fork in a footpath, but it was dark, and hard to tell. The only light came from her sabre, which was forever changing colour, from blue to green to purple – and for a few seconds, red – but that didn't really matter now. She had to defeat the opponent that was blocking her paths. She knew that she had to triumph against the Jedi she somehow knew she was fighting, or she could not continue on her way – or if she did, it would be along a path that would lead her in the wrong direction. _

'_Please, just move!' she begged her adversary. She did not want to hurt him, but if he would not let her go, she would have to. _

'_Elana, just go the other way.' He said, his voice equally pleading. 'Don't get hurt, trying for something you can't have. Go the other way.'_

'_Elana, Elana!' voices seemed to echo from the free path. She recognized some of them – Behra, her mother, her other family and friends. And suddenly, she realised she recognized the voice of her enemy too –an enemy who truly meant well. The person who was blocking the path she knew to be right, but he didn't want her to take. _

'_Who are you?' she cried, though she already knew the answer. _

_And he stepped into the glow of their lightsabers. She shouted out in shock and revelation, as she saw, not a Jedi, but the face of her father. _

Elana woke with a jerk, her forehead slightly sweaty, a small scream escaping her. She was shocked by her dream, and it took her some minutes before she calmed down enough to think through everything properly.

She realised her subconscious had put together what she had been trying to work out all day, in the form of a dream. And she knew that it was true.

Knowledge _was _clouding her decisions, just as her father had said. But it was not the knowledge that she would make a good Jedi. It was the knowledge that she would not be accepted into the Jedi order as she was, and could easily follow the path of a diplomat, scientist or fencer, without hurting anyone. The fact that she knew how hard a Jedi's life was, and what it had done to her father, that made her shy away from her true destiny.

_She must become a Jedi. _

Elana knew it would not be easy, and that in following this path, she would hurt her family and friends, especially her father. But she wouldn't let any of that stop her; it had been her father's attempts to protect her that had almost made her miss this decision completely. She had to become a Jedi, for her own good, and – she wasn't sure how yet – the Galaxy's. But she knew enough of the Force to tell that this was its will, and this decision would alter everything – She could only hope for the better.

Her sudden resolve had left her wide awake, and full of questions that must be answered. How would she get the training that she must have to be a Jedi? Not from her father, that was certain. It seemed the only other way was to seek help at the Jedi temple, but she knew that as a girl who was almost a young woman, she would never be able to get conventional training. No... She must enter with people of her own age, fighting in the war. But they would all be boys... hmm...

Elana began to drift asleep, the beginnings of a plan forming in her mind.

***


	3. Decisions

**Hi, guys. The next chapter is UP! Hurrah! More are coming soon, too! I have to say, I was a little dissapointed with the number of reviews that we got. TWO! I ask you...**

**Anyway, here is the chapter. Enjoy!**

Chapter 2

The same day, On Courosant...

In an antechamber outside the Jedi Council room, Mace Windu stood waiting. The room was, like the whole Temple, cool and subdued, designed for meditation, but Mace could not relax. He paced edgily up and down, his dark eyes glancing round. Why had he been summoned before the Council? He doubted it was for misconduct, so what? Nerves shot through his stomach as he waited.

Mace Windu was a in his late twenties, and a well-regarded Jedi Knight. He was a tall, dark-skinned man, ambitious and energetic – perhaps a little too much so. He did not just excel in physical strength, though; of late it seemed he could feel the living Force strongly within him, just waiting to be harnessed. Mace showed great promise as a fighter, already excelling Form VII of lightsaber combat.

But though Mace was a very promising Knight, he was not perfect; a fact which he knew and tried hard to change. He often felt restless, impatient, and frequently had trouble controlling his temper. He knew that these strong feelings were unsuitable for a Jedi; and though he strove to stop them, it wasn't easy. So maybe the Council did wish to reprimand him after all? But again, what if they didn't? What if...?

* * *

'Are you sure this is wise, Master Yoda?' Ki-Ai asked. He and Master Yoda were alone in the Council chamber. The rest of the Council had withdrawn, knowing that Yoda would wish to interview their new member alone, but Ki-Ai had stayed to voice his doubts. 'He is still too ambitious, too full of emotion. Maybe a Knight of more experience...?'

'Headstrong Mace Windu is,' said Yoda, 'but believe he will be corrupted by this role, I do not. Do him good, a little responsibility will.'

'This is hardly 'a little responsibility', Master.' Ki-Adi said argumentatively. Yoda sighed.

'Valid your criticisms are, but ready, Mace Windu is,' he replied in a final sort of way. 'Summon him, Ki-Adi.'

'Yes Master.' Ki-Adi bowed and left the room. Yoda heard a low murmur of voices, and then Mace entered the room. The young Knight's head was bowed in respect, but his eyes were restless, searching. Ki-Adi was right, this was an impetuous man. But he would not turn to the Dark side if he were properly handled, and Yoda believed than appointing him to the Council was the right thing to do. To leave him chafing in an underling's role would be dangerous; responsibility was what he needed.

Yoda hobbled forward.

'Wonder, you do, why have summoned you.'

'Yes, Master.'

'Be seated, you may.'

'Thank you, Master.' Mace sat down but remained tensed on the edge of his seat. It was the posture of a warrior. Yoda took a seat opposite him and then said bluntly:

'As know you will, one of our Council members presumed dead is.'

'Yes Master.' Mace said again. He bowed his head. 'I was sorry to hear of his loss. But... what has this got to do with me?' Yoda paused, feeling Mace's suspense, then answered.

'To me listen carefully, young Mace Windu. Elected you have been, to sit on the Council.'

'Master!' Mace half-rose, thunderstruck, hardly believing his ears. A seat on the _council_?

'Yes,' Yoda nodded, 'join the Council you shall. Normally an older Knight would we select, but a special task we have for you. Decided, we have, in light of the Sith threat, to call up young men in the Force to train. To conduct this training, your task will be.'

'Master, I –' Mace faltered. 'I am honoured.' He slipped out of his chair and knelt. 'I will gladly accept this position on the Council, and hope that I do well by it.'

'Then before the rest of the Council come,' Yoda said. 'The initiation ceremony we shall conduct, and then outline your duties. This way come.'

The ceremony passed in a blur for Mace. He felt at eager, nervous, proud and plain terrified all at once, the path of a great Jedi being placed directly before him. It was only when he had retired to his room and his mind had cleared a little that he began to feel some actual doubt. He was training Conscripts; not Padawans raised in the ways of the Jedi, but young men fresh from the streets. They would doubtless be... a little rough around the edges, to put it mildly. Mace squared his shoulders and smiled grimly. If the Jedi wanted an army, that was what they would get – and the Conscripts would soon find out exactly who they were dealing with. He would get these conscripts into shape, whatever it took. But why was he getting so worried? There was no need, it was just a bunch of teenage boys. Nothing he couldn't handle.

What could be so hard about that?

* * *

The morning after Mace Windu had been elected to sit on the council - far away, on Alderan.

Elana woke with her brain buzzing. What was she going to do? Her decision had seemed so obvious in the middle of the night, but was it really the right path? And even if it was, how would she ever pull it off? Only boys could become Jedi; she didn't know what the consequences would be for her father or any other Jedi training a woman, but it would surely be loss of standing at the very least. Of course, there was nothing to stop her lobbying for a full on Act in the Senate to allow women to become Jedi, but it would probably be laughed at with only her to back it up, and anyway, they were in a state of war for goodness sake!

For the millionth time, Elana questioned herself. This decision would only bring hurt to her family, and could end up very badly, whatever she did – how could it be the right thing?

But it was no easier to stay here, letting other people die, and knowing she could help. Everything had seemed so clear last night, after that astonishing dream. But now, it was all a mess. She shook her head, totally, hopelessly confused. Then anger bubbled up inside her once again. If she could only have a fair trial for five minutes to show them what she could do! If she could just get into the temple long enough to prove herself!

Elana was so lost in thought that she didn't hear her comlink until the tenth ring. She scrambled to get it, and hastily pressed the answer button.

'Hello, hello?' she asked breathlessly.

'Elana,' it was Behra. 'Do you have any plans for half an hour ago?' she said frostily.

'No,' Elana said, but then turned – and saw the clock. HALF PAST TEN?! 'Oh no! I'm sorry, I'll meet you at your house in 5 minutes flat.'

'I despair of you sometimes, Elana.' Behra sighed, and rung off.

Elana grabbed a banana from her fruit bowl, and then rushed from the room, chomping hard. She could eat more when she got to Behra's. _Why did I agree to this? _She asked herself, as she sprinted through the Palace gardens.

Four and a half minutes later, she ran up to Behra's apartment, and the door was flung open.

'Elana! You made it with – twenty-eight seconds to spare!' She cried, looking at a stopwatch in her hand. Elana laughed breathlessly.

'Not bad, considering I did it on one banana. Can I have some food here?' She felt light-hearted, and realised that in the rush, all her dilemmas had been forgotten. But as she climbed the steps to the door, they all came flooding back. Should she do it? _Could _she do it?

* * *

'Now,' Behra declared. 'We look fabulous.'

It was now three o'clock in the afternoon, and Behra was finally satisfied. She and Elana had picked out their clothes, styled their hair, and Behra had decided what makeup they should wear. The two girls flopped on the bed. They had two hours to relax before the party.

'Credit where it's due,' Behra mused, 'The fashion droid did help a lot, what with the previews, styling and so on; we can just get it to do makeup, and we'll put everything on, half an hour before we have to go, rather than trying everything on ourselves... that droid is great, it can show you how you'll look in anything...'

'Mmmm,' Elana said vaguely. She flicked her fingers across the touchpad, reeling a string of images across the screen, images of her own face, each time made up and styled differently. They all looked so different; you could hardly tell it was the same person...

'Behra...' she said slowly, 'do you think your droid could make me look like a boy?'

The idea had bubbled to the surface of her mind, appearing so sweetly and easily after all that angsting that at first she had hardly realised it was there. Behra turned round and looked at her oddly. 'What did you say?'

Elana shrugged. 'I was just... just wondering what I would look like if I was a boy, you know? It would be quite interesting.'

Behra looked quizzical for a moment, but then smiled. 'OK, then!' she snapped into action, jumping off the bed and pulling Elana after her. Behra turned on the droid.'Let's see... OK, PINK1-0-10,' she said to the droid, 'Make Elana look like a boy.'

The tall silver robot paused a moment, searching its programmes, then replied apologetically. 'I'm sorry, Mistress Behra, but my programming does not give me the facilities to fulfil your request.'

Behra tutted impatiently. 'You must be able to do _something_!'

'I cannot fulfil your request.' The droid repeated. 'However, if you would like to try a range of shorter haircuts, I would be happy to-'

Behra switched off the droid, and sighed. 'It's just like I'm always saying: these droids have no imagination whatsoever! All they're good for is a bunch of cookie-cutter trends. Looks like we're gonna have to do this by hand.'

Elana turned her face toward Behra, trying to sound animated. 'I'm game!'

'So,' Behra said authoritively, 'The first thing is, a boy's face is differently shaped from girls. So, we need to fix that, by changing the shadow.' She picked up some dark brown, waterproof eye shadow, and began to apply it to Elana's nose, chin and cheekbones. 'Their faces are squarer and they have longer noses...not much we can do about your huge pooffy lips, but I've angled your jaw a bit...

'Hey, you know you envy me my lips!' Elana tried to joke.

'But right now, masculine is our aim, so they are baaaad.' Behra drawled. She finished applying eye shadow, and shut the palette with a snap.

'We have to make your eyebrows messier, and get rid of _all _eye makeup.' She executed these things as she said them.

'So basically, make me look like I don't care about my appearance at all?' Elana asked, beginning to get the picture.

'Exactly. Now, let's feed that into the droid... ' Behra turned Elana's chair toward PINK, and let photograph her. The picture flashed onto the screen.

'Now let's try hairstyles.' Elana said eagerly, scrolling through the droid's list of short hairstyles. She found a messy, ear-length cut, and pressed 'try'.

'Now we just have to wait.' Behra finished, and the two girls sat down impatiently while the droid processed the image. After what seemed like a lifetime, 'ready' showed on the screen. _This is the acid test, _Elana thought, as she nervously pressed display. She leant forward...

...and gasped in disbelief at the face on the screen in front of her. A teenage boy with short, messy brown hair was looking out of the screen at her. If you looked closely, his skin was a bit too smooth and his lips too full, but if you didn't know, it was impossible to tell that the person on the screen was her.

'OMG!' Behra squealed. 'That is _so _freaky! You look like a boy – a bit of a sissy, but a veritable boy!'

'I know.' Elana was dazed. It was so simple. With just a little makeup, and short hair, no one would be able to tell the difference between her and another boy.

'It's a shame about your mouth, it looks totally gay, but apart from that, you'd pass!' Behra continued.

'Gee, thanks,' Elana said sarcastically, 'so now I have gay lips?' _Would another boy think that, or is it just Behra?_

'Not as a girl, Elana. Just slightly, in that picture. It doesn't matter anyway – you're not planning on becoming a boy.'

'No!' Elana lied loudly, her fingers firmly crossed, 'Of _course _not.'

But when Behra wasn't looking, she quietly pocketed the eye-shadow.

No matter what else they did that afternoon, Elana could not take her mind off the image on the droid's screen. She thought about it as she let her hair down from its curlers, imagining cutting it off. She stood in front of the mirror, looking at her figure, never as full as she might have wished, wondering if it could be a boy's. And she came to the conclusion that, all in all, she would, undoubtedly, pass.

And the knowledge that her attempt to enlist as a Jedi might possibly succeed terrified her. Now she had no excuse. Not if she wanted to help her people.

And becoming a Jedi would help them. She was sure of it.

***

The Palace was ablaze with lights, and music was playing in the ballroom. Real musicians, not just the synthetic stuff that was often used. Glittering dancers were waltzing in the centre of the room, mostly, if you knew the people of the court as well as Elana did, army officers and politicians' daughters, like herself. The men of power themselves were lurking around the edges of the room, some of them sipping glasses of red wine, deep in conversation, letting the young ones put on the show of gaiety for them.

Elana could not find it in her heart to dance and chatter with the others. She could see the strained look in the eyes of the people around her, the way they huddled and gestured. It was evident in the behaviour of the soldiers too; men of action rather than words, they were more dashing, more vigorous in their dancing and more dramatic in their professions of love than usual. These were men who saw themselves as gallant heroes, about to fight and to die for their planet. The threat of the Sith was no longer something that could be heard about and dismissed as far from home. It had invaded the very hall where she stood.

'Bail Organa is looking very well,' Behra remarked coolly.

'He is,' she agreed.

'He's dancing with that girl from the Courosant...'

'A young man must do his duty by the women.'

'Oh for goodness sake, Elana, you know what I mean. Please, can't you just _pretend _to speculate?'

'I don't think he's interested in her. He prefers a fuller figure than these skin-and-bones City girls.'

'How do you know?' Behra demanded, glancing coyly down at herself all the same.

'I just do. Stop worrying.'

'Well...' Behra paused. 'Elana is there really no-one you like?' she asked, dropping her voice.

'Yes.'

'Yes, there is someone you like?'

'No. Yes, there really is no-one I like.'

Behra groaned.

'Look.' Elana was getting impatient. 'Why don't you just go talk to him?'

'I can't do that!' Behra exclaimed, scandalised.

'I don't see why not. We're not kept veiled and chained by our fathers' sides anymore, so I should think we can go and exchange a cordial greeting with a gentleman.'

'_Fine_,' Behra growled and stalked off in Bail's direction, muttering under her breath about 'insensitive' and 'never interested' and 'how pushy must I look?'

Left on her own, Elana gazed slowly around the room. There was a constant gnawing in her stomach, and now that Behra was gone it hit harder. She caressed the smooth crystal goblet in her hand, trying to soothe herself. She was just so frightened. This path of a Jedi was now spread out before her, urging her to take it, but could she? Should she? There was so much that could and surely would go wrong, but now that she knew that disguising as a boy was feasible she felt like a coward not to try it.

She turned her back on the room, unable to take the sight anymore, and wandered towards the open windows that lead onto the balcony. Slowly she stepped out, breathing in the cool night air. A slight wind ruffled her curled hair, and she bent forward, letting it slide across her bare shoulders. She imagined it shorn away to boy's length. How naked she would feel...and how liberated. She moved to the balustrade and leant on it, gazing out over the city. It was spangled with tens of thousands of lights, some still and arranged in rows one above another, and some in moving streams. The lights of her people. What should she do?

'Lady Sango?'

Elana jumped nearly out of her skin as she realised, somewhat belatedly, that she was not alone on the balcony. A dark figure detached itself from the shadows and stepped forward. She strained her eyes forward, but then relaxed; she recognised him as the captain of the Palace guard.

'Good evening, Captain,' she said levelly.

'You should step back inside, my Lady. It's none too warm.'

'I'm not as delicate as all that,' she returned, not moving.

'All the same...' he hesitated.

'You think it's dangerous to be outside at night?' she asked him straight.

'No, no! But you should be enjoying yourself.'

'I have no heart for it tonight,' Elana said flatly. She kept her eyes out over the city, and after a moment she heard him settle against the balustrade beside her and heave a sigh.

'Neither have I,' he admitted.

'The politicians let their children dance while they go into little huddles to worry about the war,' she said bitterly. 'Half the people are dismissing the whole thing, but my father seems so worried... '

'There are...diplomatic issues,' he said carefully. 'We are not officially involved in any war, so the military are not overly concerned, but the politicians...'

'Captain, how bad is it?' she asked softly. There was a long pause, during which she heard him swallow. Then he turned, looking her straight in the eye as though she were a man, and said:

'People in the mid rim are dying.'

Elana drew in her breath. 'So we should be concerned,' she said.

'It is almost certain that we shall be involved, and soon.'

'And is anything being _done_? What is happening on Corusant, in the Senate?'

'You've heard of the Jedi conscription programme?'

'Why should I have?' Elana lashed out. 'I am a woman.'

The Captain bowed his head. 'Of course.'

'If the Jedi are taking such a personal interest, then the rumours of the Sith being behind this must be true.'

'Must, my Lady?'

She turned away, back out over the city. 'The people need all the help they can get...' she whispered.

'I hear you're not bad with a sword yourself.' He was humouring her now. 'I could train with you in the Salle when I am off-duty. You are right; in times like this women should be able to defend themselves too.'

_Men,_ Elana thought irritably. _They never hit you anywhere above or below the stomach. I'd be_ _better off training with Behra._ Out loud she said:

'Maybe. I think we should go back in. It really is too cold.'

Together they stepped back into the ballroom, blinking in the sudden light.

'Will you dance with me?' the Captain asked, and suddenly she was a woman in his eyes again, the moment of honesty gone. They two-stepped rapidly around the floor, just another pair of tragic young heroes on the brink of war. She saw several girls cast her envious looks; she was dancing with an officer, after all. As soon as the dance was over another young man came over to claim her, and she was whirled off again. Helping to keep up the romantic display, while war raged mere systems away...a spurt of anger flared in her mind, and suddenly her decision was made.

She was dancing with Bail Organa. Though he was a low-level politician he had chosen to take to the floor, courteously inviting several ladies to dance over the course of the evening (she was _sure_ it was nothing for Behra to worry about). She pulled away from him and said:

'Sit, would you convey my apologies to my father and to princess Behra? I fear I must retire now.'

'My lady, are you well?'

'Only a little tired, Sir, but perhaps I should rest.'

'Perhaps,' he nodded, releasing her. There was something a little dry and humorous in his manner, even when he was in earnest. She could see why Behra liked him. At least by giving him this message she had compelled him to go and speak to her friend, who would then not have to be seen to approach him first. She gave him the most elegant courtesy she could muster and then walked from the room. As soon as the light and sound were shut out behind her she began to run.

Elana ran as fast as she could, across the palace gardens, and into the main buildings. She hardly knew what she was doing. All she knew was that whatever happened she would leave for Courosant that night. Her feet disengaging from her body, she ran into her father's study, picking up a large metal object in her hands. It was too dark to see what it was, but it would do the job. The gleam of the glass case on her father's desk was just visible in the moonlight, and she hurried over. She drew back her arm, and then smashed with all her might into the glass, thanking the Force it wasn't alarmed. She reached in, hissing as a small piece of glass cut her finger, and picked up the lightsaber inside.

It felt so _right, _fitting comfortably into her hand; a little too long, perhaps, but the feeling gave her new courage. Heartened, she left the study, slipping her shoes off and picking them up as she left. Heels were not going to increase her speed. She locked the door behind her.

Elana's next stop was her own room. Here, she hastily gathered a few changes of clothes into a bag, also packing her comlink and datapad. She found her Banking pass, and put it in too – she would need money to get to Courosant. She quickly changed her clothes for a loose black jumper, baggy jeans and trainers; nothing that would show her figure at all. She found one of her father's old travelling cloaks at the back of her closet, and pulled it on gratefully. She looked around the room, making sure she had everything she needed; but as she headed for the door, she hesitated. Rushing back, she pulled two paper photos from frames on her desk, stuffing them into the bag. One was of Behra, taken just a few months ago; the other was of her and her parents in their garden. She was glad she was taking them with her.

The next thing Elana did was the hardest.

She ran into her kitchen, and found a pair of blunt scissors. She couldn't make her cut look too recent, or it might cause suspicion; it needed to look messy. Then she headed to the bathroom, and scrubbed hard at her face, removing all the makeup; she took off all her mascara, eye pencil, and messed her eyebrows. Next, she applied the eye-shadow in the way Behra had done that afternoon. _The chin, the nose, the cheekbones. _It looked convincing, and Elana silently thanked her best friend.

But now, there was no putting off the awful moment. Elana took the scissors in her hand, and lifted them to her head. _Come on, Elana. _She told herself fiercely. _You _have _to. _So she took a deep breath, and slashed off her hair.

It fell to the ground next to her. Elana cut off her waist-length hair, the hair which she had taken so much care over, she had curled so carefully only today... she mentally slapped her face and continued to snip, until she had an unruly, ear-length style. She gathered up the hair, flushing it down the drain, and replaced the scissors in the kitchen. Then she looked into the mirror.

The effect was the same as it had been that afternoon. The change was uncanny, and Elana sighed; not just because of the loss of her hair, but because her demeanour had changed entirely. She was no longer a Lady of Alderan – what her reflection showed was just a lightly freckled, brown-eyed, slightly feminine boy. Not the slightest bit impressive, and completely unnoticeable. The transformation was complete, and despite her sadness, Elana had to admit it was perfect.

She gathered her things, and left the building, calling down an air taxi. She headed straight to the Alderan spaceport. Elana caught the first shuttle to Courosant, and as it pulled slowly away from her planet, she realised that she was saying goodbye – at least for the time bring - to her whole previous life.

She could no longer be Elana Sango.

***


	4. Caleb Sango

**Chapter 3: Arrival**

The transport was large, crowded and noisy. Elana stood jammed into the cabin just in front of the entry doors, hanging onto a strap in the ceiling. Humans and aliens jostled into her left and right, but she felt detached. She stared out over the receding lights of her homeworld; first the spaceport, then the city, then the entire continent spread out below her.

_It is so big,_ she thought, and then, _so small_. How huge the world she was entering was. Alderan, her home, was just one planet in a galaxy thousands of light years across, with countless planets to see... Elana began to dream about where would she go when she became a Jedi, the many new places would she see, places even her father had only dreamed of- _You're jumping waaaaay ahead,_ Elana, she thought wryly. _You haven't even got into the temple_ _yet_!

The ship rocked as it was buffeted by the air currents in the upper atmosphere. There was a low whine as gravity-synthesisers activated throughout the ship, and next moment they were in space, kicking free of the planet's gravitational pull. Alderan grew rapidly smaller behind them, and Elana's heart ached as she said a silent goodbye.

But now, the main cabin was emptying around her. As a last-minute passenger Elana had no private quarters. She made her way away from the doors to where benches were lined up in rows, with space enough between them for a person to lie. Several travellers were already shaking out their bedding, with no thought to the hardness of the floor; unlike her, they were used to hard voyages. Elana picked her way between the rows, glancing around for somewhere out of the way.

'On your own, young one?'

Elana turned to see a broad, brown-clad woman settled on the bench behind her.

'Yes. May I sit here?'

' 'Course.' The woman moved a huge basket so that Elana could dump her baggage.

'Thanks,' she muttered, leaning forward and rubbing her hands over her face.

'Where you getting off then?' the woman asked, rummaging in her basket.

'Corusant, ma'am,' Elana answered, remembering how she had heard young country boys addressing women.

'Corusant, eh?' The woman looked her up and down. 'You wouldn't be after joining this band of conscripts the Jedi're forming?'

'Yes. My midi-chlorian count was above the limit you see, and I thought, why not?'

'Why not indeed. Hmph. If you ask me, there's a sight too much panic-mongering going on in high places at the moment. The trouble in the outer rim'll blow over long before their little Jedi band is needed.'

'Mmm.' Elana thought back to the captain's warning on the balcony. 'All the same, should be a good experience, I reckon. Useful for the future, and all that.'

'Maybe that's so. What's your name, then?'

'Um...' Elana faltered. What _was _she going to call herself? Hastily she groped for a name.

'My name's Caleb, ma'am.'

'Well we need more lads like you, Caleb, war or no war. The main problem in this universe is nobody helps each other. You go out and do your bit, and you won't ever regret it.'

_Until I find myself impaled on the end of a lightsaber, anyway, _Elana thought.

'Don't you worry about anythin', Caleb.' The woman continued. 'It don't do to brood. A man makes his own luck.'

'Maybe,' Elana said non-commitally.

'Will all passengers return to their cabins, we will be making the jump to lightspeed in two standard minutes,' a voice announced over the speaker system.

'Cabins are designed for it,' the woman remarked, settling herself back. 'People who stay in the toilets sometimes get left behind.' She winked at Elana and closed her eyes.

The cabin lights dimmed and Elana spread out her bedroll and climbed in. Then she lay and stared up at the blank ceiling, listening to the roar of the ship. She had passed the first test. _Caleb Sango_.

But it was only the first of many.

***

An hour later, another announcement came over the speakers.

'We are now approaching Courosant. Please collect your belongings, and move to the main cabin.' There was a lurch as the ship came out of Hyperspace, and a few seconds later, the shuttle came into view of Courosant. As always, it was blazing with lights, and Elana thought she could almost hear the noise coming from it.

'You'd better pack up.' Said the woman next to her. 'We'll be there in half a minute.'

Elana hastily rolled up her bedding and got to her feet, as passengers began to flood the cabin.

'Well, I guess I'll say 'bye, then, Ma'am.' She said, grabbing a rail for support. The woman smiled.

'It was lovely meeting you, Caleb. Good luck with your training.' She paused, and looked Caleb up and down one more time. 'Good luck... and remember, one person can make a lot of difference. That's what I always say.' She gazed penetratingly at Elana, who grew uncomfortable. Had this woman seen through her? Better not hang around to find out.

'Erm, thanks. I'd better go now, though...' Elana moved away, toward the main doors of the shuttle. She could feel the woman's eyes on her back until she was out of sight.

Elana pushed her way to the front of the crowd, ignoring the grumbles of the people around her – she wanted to be off this transport as soon as possible. Besides, if she wanted to pretend to be a boy, she would have to start acting like one. The ship slowed to a halt, and there was a hiss as the engine stopped. The enormous doors of the shuttle creaked open. Elana walked out of the ship, blinking in the bright light of the Courosant morning.

Every ray of light was reflected a thousand times, glittering off windows and buildings, making the cityscape almost too bright to look at. And the _Noise! _Hundreds of different languages, spoken by creatures of every shape and form, and never once a lull in the constant pulse of activity. Elana gasped, rocking back on her heels. Everything was so _big. _She found herself drawn into the bustling city, joining the crowds that swirled around her. Now, too find a transport that would take her to the Jedi Temple...

She ran up to a rank of air taxis, and spoke to the first driver she saw. 'Excuse me, I want to go to the Jedi Temple!' She had to shout to make herself heard over the noise of the city.

The driver, a Twi'lek male, started his engine immediately. 'Sure. Get in.'

Elana vaulted into the back of the speeder, throwing her bag onto the seat next to her. As soon as she sat down, the driver stamped down the accelerator, and they shot forward, swerving into the moving traffic. The speeder overtook three cars, changed lanes twice, and then almost immediately did another breakneck turn, jerking Elana in her seat.

'So,' commented the driver, as if nothing had happened, 'You heading to sign up for the army?' he looked back at her for an answer, and Elana winced as they only just dodged an intersecting lane of traffic.

'Uh... yeah,' she managed to say. 'I qualified, so I decided to go for it.' Best not to mention that she had qualified by over ten thousand...

'Well, from what I've heard,' the Twi'lek said, leaning back in his seat, 'In the outer rim, there's a lot of nasty stuff going on. Kidnappings... blackmail... in my opinion, it won't be long 'till an all-out war starts.' Her driver was evidently a gossiper. Maybe she could find out something useful.

Elana adopted her best 'interested' voice. 'Woah. Really? D'you think they'll end up needing the Jedi?'

'If things keep going the way they are, I wouldn't be surprised.' He answered ominously, enjoying the audience. 'You'd best protect all us Civilians, 'adn't you? We don't want the war to reach Courosant.'

Elana's pulse quickened. 'What do you mean?'

The Twi'lek lowered his voice. 'Don't tell anyone I told you this, but... some say, the Sith are gonna go for the inner rim planets, next.'

The inner rim! But that meant... 'Do you think that they'd attack Alderan?' she asked nervously.

'And that's not all,' the Driver continued, not listening, 'They say that after that, they'll move in on Courosant itself.'

'What?!' Elana exclaimed. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

Thoroughly pleased with the impact his words had made, the Twi'lek pulled up and stopped outside the Jedi Temple. 'But I wouldn't worry too much,' he said reassuringly. 'As long as you Jedi boys do your business, we should be alright for a while yet. That'll be 10 credits, please.'

Elana paid the driver in a daze, hardly knowing what she was doing. The situation was more serious than she had thought. And from what she had heard, her home planet, Alderan, was in danger too! Suddenly, Elana was glad that she had run away. Now, she could at least try to prevent the war. Being here and knowing was far better than staying back on Alderan, oblivious and helpless to do anything. Now, she knew what she was up against.

'Those Sith won't win, as long as I'm left fighting!' she said to herself. Then, grinning, and filled with new confidence, she strode up to the main entrance of the Jedi temple.

As she entered, a bored-looking secretary glanced up. 'Conscript?' he said disinterestedly.

'Yeah.' Elana replied, keeping her answers short. The monosyllabic atmosphere was catching.

'Name?'

'Caleb Sango.'

'Planet of origin?'

'Alderan.'

The secretary quickly keyed her details into a datapad. 'Hold out you arm, I need to take a blood sample.' Elana stuck out her arm, and the secretary produced a syringe. Elana winced slightly as she saw it fill with her own blood.

'If you have a count of over five thousand, you can enter.' The secretary plugged the sample into his datapad. Then, as the result came up, Elana suppressed a smile as she saw his eyes widen, and he glanced quickly from her to the analysis.

'Er, thank you. You may enter the temple, please take your details with you. Second door on the left, assemble with the other conscripts.' He handed her a readout, then turned back to his datapad. But as she walked through the glass doors, she saw the man still looking at her, a slight frown on his face. Feeling slightly smug, she turned her eyes to the readout in her hand. At the top it read, _Caleb Sango. _Her new name.

It was going to take some getting used to.

***

As instructed, Elana walked along the corridor until she reached the second door. From the inside, she could hear the buzz of voices. This must be the right room, then.

Elana dithered. Should she knock, or wait for the Jedi to sense her with their force-type stuff? Suddenly, she was reminded of her first day at school, years ago; waiting outside the classroom, unsure if it was the right one, nervous about meeting so many people she didn't know. Except this was even worse; at school, she'd at least had Behra with her. Now she was on her own. Elana was seized with a sudden impulse to just leg it out of the Jedi temple, back to the home that she knew... _NO! Pull yourself together girl – boy –whatever. Just get yourself into that room! _Elana steeled herself, and then knocked hard on the door.

It was opened immediately by a young man in Jedi garb. His hair was cut short in the Padawan style, and his braid was very long and bound with yellow cord. Elana presumed that he was a Senior Padawan, about to face the trials.

'Hello, I presume that you are one of the new arrivals?' he said formally. Still not trusting herself to speak, Elana nodded, and the Padawan went on to introduce himself. 'My name is Qui-Gon Jinn. I'm a Padawan, and I will be helping to supervise you throughout your training.' He bowed to her gracefully. Awkwardly, unsure of the correct protocol, she returned his bow, and then followed him down a short hallway. A moment later, they entered a large, high-ceilinged chamber that echoed with the noise of about a hundred other conscripts that were milling around.

'Wait here, and make yourself at home. You will all be brought before the Council shortly, once the last few conscripts have arrived. Then, we will arrange your quarters. What is your name, please?'

'Caleb Sango.'

Up until then the Padawan's manner had been conventionally polite; now, for the first time, a flash of personal interest crossed his face.

'Shan Sango's son?' he asked, surprised.

Elana tried to sound indifferent. 'That's me. My dad said that I should sign up, and so I thought, why not?'

But Qui-Gon wasn't listening to her explanation. 'He was a good Jedi, one of the best. Hopefully you have inherited some of his talent.' His face creased into a smile, and then he quickly strode out of a door to the side of the hallway.

* * *

Qui-Gon came into the council-chamber in a state of excitement.

'Masters!'

Ki-Adi-Mundi and Yoda looked up.

'What is it, Padawan Qui-Gon?' Yoda inquired.

But Qui-Gon was already speaking. 'Shan Sango's son is out there!'

Ki-Adi seemed surprised. 'I didn't know that Shan Sango had a son!' He exclaimed. 'Did you, Master Yoda?'

The small green alien frowned for a moment, appearing to be deep in thought. Then, his face cleared. 'Know everything we do not, Master Mundi. A member of the order, Shan is not. A son, he may have had.' He paused, then looked up at Qui-Gon. 'Shan Sango's son, before us bring.'

'Certainly, master.' Qui-Gon bowed, and departed the room.

When he was gone, Ki-Adi spoke up. 'How could I not have known about this son?' He seemed troubled that there was something in the galaxy that he wasn't aware of.

'Yourself calm, Master Mundi. But curious about this son, am I.'

* * *

Elana walked to the side of room and put her bag down, and then gazed slowly around, taking in the temple. She supposed it was beautiful, all the proportions in perfect balance, lines sweeping, immaculately painted. The colours were predominantly brown. It was a gracious and imposing building, but somehow it failed to please her. There was no passion in it. A cool, tranquil place, ideal for men who aimed to lead a life of peace.

However, it wasn't very peaceful in this room. The newly arrived conscripts were shouting to one another, running, fighting and generally being disruptive. Elana had never realised before that boys, without the dilution of girls, were almost completely unable to just stay still and _talk. _Now, she was learning the hard way. She felt out of place and confused, like a mouse among elephants, or...

_Or a girl alone in a room of boys, _she concluded wryly.

'Hello?' Elana jumped, realising that Qui-Gon had come back. 'You will come with me now, please,' he said, ushering her through the door.

'Where're we going?' she asked, trying to mooch like a boy her age would.

'The Masters would like to see you straight away. They will probably try to speak to everyone at some point; it looks like you're the first on their list.'

_My midi-chlorian count_, Elana thought numbly.

In the next room she saw a tall-headed alien, and, sitting in the shadows, a small green being.

'Master Ki-Adi Mundi and Master Yoda,' Qui-Gon whispered.

Elana remembered her father telling her about the Jedi master Yoda. He had always talked of him with the greatest esteem. She remembered him saying that Yoda had the highest midi-chlorian count ever recorded. With the Force, he could predict the future, and lift objects far beyond even the strongest man's power. "There's no fooling master Yoda. Don't take any account of his outward appearance. He's more powerful than any other Jedi," He had told her. Now, she felt trepidation; what if Master Yoda saw through her disguise?

Qui-Gon stepped into the middle of the room and bowed.

'Caleb Sango, Masters,' he said.

'Thank you, Qui-Gon,' Ki-Adi replied. 'Wait by the door, please.'

Qui-Gon swished passed her and melted into the shadows. Elana swallowed and shuffled forward to stand in front of the two Jedi masters. She kept her head bowed. Her face felt horribly exposed without her hair.

She heard the tapping of a stick, and Master Yoda stepped into her field of vision. Dammit, with her head bowed he could look right up into her face.

'Welcome, young one,' he said. His voice was kinder than she had expected, but his eyes were searching. 'Hope too tiring the journey was not?'

'No, Master. It was very...interesting.'

'You are the son of Caleb Sango?' the other Master asked in ringing tones. He had not left his seat at the side of the room.'

'Yes Master.'

'Your father had a great reputation amongst the Order.' Somehow it didn't sound like a compliment. Elana turned back to Yoda.

'Hmmm,' the small, wizened master looked up into her face. 'Strong with the Force this one is. Great potential I sense. Strange that we did not notice him before.'

'Very strange,' Ki-Adi agreed. 'Especially as you were born in the Inner Rim, Caleb.'

Elana looked him straight in the eye. 'My father does not approve of birth selection,' she said softly. Ki-Adi nodded delicately and turned away. Whatever he had meant by his line of questioning, Elana was not worried. He suspected she might not be who she said she was, but he was nowhere near the truth. Maybe she was claiming Jedi heritage to try and gain favour; well, that wouldn't wash with him. But Master Yoda's presence made her feel panicky. Now that she had met him, anything less than total honesty felt not only foolish but downright wrong.

Elana looked into the eyes of the little alien, trying to let him see her sincerity, her desire for good. She wanted no more than to help. He could trust her, he must realise that?

Master Yoda looked directly at her, and spoke. 'Watch your progress with great interest, I shall.' He turned away, frowning slightly, and Master Ki-Adi-Mundi followed him out of the room.

Elana breathed a sigh of relief, turning back towards Qui-Gon. She was being paranoid, that was all. If Master Yoda had suspected anything, he had let it pass. As for Ki-Adi, he would find no cause for complaint.

Another test passed.

* * *

'I'm taking you to your dormitory now,' Qui-Gon said as he led her through the temple. 'The Conscripts are split into three groups. Your dormitory will be training with Master Windu, who is in charge of the entire training programme. If you need any help with the day-to-day routine, I or any of my fellow senior Padawans will be happy to assist you.' He was speaking from the textbook again. 'The Conscripts will be training on their own to begin with, but you will take meals and spend free time with the rest of the Order, who you'll eventually be working with in the war effort.' He pulled up short outside a door and stood, one hand on the knob. 'Like I said, you're with Master Windu, so my advice now would be to sleep. You'll need it.'

Elana didn't even bother to ask who Master Windu was, or why it meant she should sleep. She just slipped quietly into the room and wove her way between beds, trying not to wake anyone up. It was late at night on Corusant and nearly every bed harboured a sleeping figure. The men lay sprawled and tangled up in their blankets, breathing loudly through open mouths. At any other time the mere thought of the morning would have been enough to bring her out in a cold sweat of terror, but suddenly she was just too tired. Master Windu, playacting and the Jedi Order could wait until morning. Before sleeping, she glanced once more at her details, set down in black and white on the paper in her hand. Caleb Sango.

_Caleb Sango. _

Then her head touched the pillow, and she was asleep.


	5. Day One

**Chapter 4: Day One**

**A/N: This is your esteemed co-pilot True Colours writing to say...actually I have no comment. Assume what you will. Over and out. **

**Disclaimer: **Actually I don't think we've done one of these yet. We do not own Star Wars, but Elana/Caleb and the scenario are aaaalll ours.

Elana was woken by a large pillow slamming into her face.

'Oy, Alderan! Wake up, or do you want to be eaten by a Jedi?'

She opened her eyes to see a very bare-chested youth with spots standing over her, dragging a comb through his hair.

'Whatchoo lookin' at?' he demanded as she gaped at him.

'Nothing,' she muttered, rolling out of bed. Sunlight was pouring through the windows and the room was full of young men getting dressed with an unnecessary amount of pushing and shoving. She gathered up her clothes, went into the bathroom and surreptitiously locked herself into a cubicle to dress. When she came out the boy who'd hit her with a pillow was giving some kind of pep-talk.

'All ready, lads?' he asked, clapping her painfully on the shoulder as she tried to pass him.

'Ready,' they chorused, sniggering and punching each other.

'You actually know where we're going, Yannec?' somebody asked.

'That Qui-Gon guy told me where we need to go, we gotta head down to the...salle, I think he called it, whatever that is –'

'The salle's where you practise fencing,' Elana blurted.

'Riiiiggghht,' the boy said, looking her up and down. 'So we head down to the place where you practise fencing and wait for Master Windu.' He emphasised the name with a slight smirk. 'Right, let's go boys.'

She tried to copy their walking styles, slouching along and swaggering, but it put a huge strain on her hips. They reached a door and shambled through into a salle four times larger than the one she had trained in. For a moment she could only stand and gaze around. There were long fencing pistes, stacks of sparring poles and a row of vaulting horses. Everything was white and seemed to crackle with the living Force. Then she caught an odd look from the man next to her and hastily pulled herself together. The day had barely even started, and already she was feeling stressed.

* * *

Mace Windu was in a bad mood. He stomped along the corridor to the training salle, his brows pulled down into a scowl. Oh, he had earned his place on the Council, true enough, but he felt that any attempt to build his reputation by training conscripts was doomed from the start. Most of the boys would prove nothing more than mediocre, no matter how hard he pushed them. And then, of course, he would get the blame. Only this morning Ki-Adi had assured him that he would be 'mentoring him and watching the conscripts' progress'. So he would have an audience as well. Mace hadn't missed the less-than-reassuring undercurrent in the master's promise.

Pausing at the door of the salle, Mace felt a flutter of real nerves. No matter his skills with a lightsaber, these conscripts outnumbered him thirty to one, and life could become very difficult if they got the idea that they could slack off for a moment. He had better start as he meant to go on. Squaring his shoulders he flung the door open and shouted:

'Attention, Conscripts!'

To their credit they lined up pretty briskly, if less than straight. Mace closed the door and paced slowly forward, scanning the line. 'Stand up straight!' he barked at the first man he passed. The conscript hastily obeyed.

Mace flicked his eyes over each youth in turn, his heart sinking.

_Gormless..._

_Smart-Alec..._

_Could be worse..._

_Weedy, and..._

_WHAT was THAT?_

Mace halted, glaring. The boy in front of him was a head shorter than everyone else, with a small, slender figure, an... _oh, no_..._sensitive_ mouth, and gently curling hair.

'What's your name?' he demanded.

Elana gulped, trying to avoid the dark eyes glowering down at her.

'Caleb Sango,' she got out.

'What makes _you_ want to become a Jedi?' It was perhaps not the best question, but Mace was exasperated. There was something about this boy that irritated him almost beyond endurance.

'It's what I've always wanted to be,' the boy said earnestly. Mace resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands.

'This is not a concert hall on Alderan,' he declared, stepping back to address the group at large. 'It is not the Holonet Filming Studio.' He locked his gaze back on Caleb Sango. 'A Jedi is not what you have_ always wanted to be_,' he said deprecatingly. 'It is a life of hard work, and I sincerely doubt whether _some_ of you are up to the challenge. What sporting disciplines have you trained in?' he asked, glancing at the boy's muscles and doubting he had trained in anything at all.

'Uh,' Sango said in a small voice. 'Fencing and...'

'And?' Mace prompted, eyes glittering dangerously.

'Yoga?' Sango squeaked.

'Are you _trying _to be_ funny_?' Mace exploded. At the end of the line someone sniggered. 'Silence!' he snapped.

'Yes sir!'

'That's yes _Master_ to you, boy. Now fetch those sparring poles and pass them down the line. Fencing and yoga.' He looked the Sango boy up and down. 'Those practises should have been useful. Let us hope they have paid off.'

Every conscript was clutching a pole now. Stepping back so as to have all of them in his line of sight, Mace wondered if he'd come down too hard on them. But they were all looking suitably galvanised into action, with the exception of Caleb Sango, who was shaking like a leaf. Mace fought down another spurt of annoyance as he raised his pole into a neutral stance. What did a boy like that think he was doing, enlisting in the army? He would only slow them all down.

'We are going to begin with a warm up,' he told them, 'and then I will take you through the stances that form the basis of Jedi combat. This technique of fighting with a pole held in two hands is rather different from using a lightsaber, but you will find that it provides a good basis. The basic pattern of parry and lunge...' Mace executed a few steps to demonstrate... 'is the same, and it will improve your balance while strengthening your core muscles. Into neutral position, now...'

They were all trying, definitely, but it would probably be better if they put less effort into looking good and more into their balance. Abruptly he was frustrated. He could think of useful things to say to each one of them, but if he individually corrected every position they would be here forever. Slowly and painfully the morning progressed.

Elana tried to pull herself together and follow the exercise. In a way, she was almost glad he'd come down so hard on her, and for no apparent reason. It proved that he didn't suspect a thing. He could look straight into her eyes and order her around like all the others and still not notice. Her fencing was indeed proving useful, as much of the posture and balance was the same, but she could already tell that the stances would build up into something much faster and aggressive than the careful sport she was used to. Her thigh muscles screamed as they held the same crouch for minute after agonising minute.

'Well, that was appalling,' Mace observed dispassionately after watching them massacre the kata for a good quarter-hour. He discarded his pole with a sense of relief. 'Appalling, but not beyond help. We are going to go right back to basics. Now we'll do a fitness drill. I want you to do three laps of the salle. Go!'

Elana didn't do so badly in the running. Her light, compact form had always favoured her there, but after a couple of times the salle she was panting heavily, and it was only then that the real workout started. _By the Force_, she thought as she watched her fellow Conscripts perform press-up after press-up, _I can't do this. _In the salle at home you never had to fight after you were tired, and she'd often out-sparred men, so she'd never realised how much a man of little skill might outstrip her in sheer stamina.

_Maybe the Code was right_, she groaned inwardly, _and women just aren't up to the job_. Then she felt furious with herself. She was already giving up, and it wasn't even lunchtime yet!

They ate their midday meal slumped against the walls around the edges of the room, and then Master Windu led them out to a large assault course which was apparently meant to mimic challenges on a battlefield.

'Once you complete the course, you may leave for dinner.' He told them. 'You should begin now.'

The other men were looking daunted now. Some of the challenges looked near-impossible: towering walls and narrow gaps with fake blaster bolts firing from all sides. Dimly Elana wondered whether people normally used the Force to get through this course, but Master Windu roared out behind her and next second she was caught up in the rush of men bolting for the first wall. She scrambled up and over, her arms screaming in protest, and then there was another obstacle after that, and another, and another. Every step felt like a miracle.

Behind her Master Windu was yelling incomprehensibly. _Jerk_, she thought suddenly. _Bastard_. Her anger lent her a little extra strength. So this was how the army worked!

At last they were all lined up, gasping and sweating, in front of Master Windu.

'That wasn't as bad as I expected, but you're all setting about it the wrong way,' he said cryptically. 'Go and shower, and then you can join the rest of the order to eat.'

As one the conscripts turned and trudged towards the showers. Elana thought they all looked too tired to talk, but as she walked Yannec fell into step beside her.

'Master came down on you well hard this morning,' he remarked.

'Huh,' she said at length. It seemed a suitably masculine response.

'I think you might have picked the wrong vocation, mate,' he continued good-naturedly, and ambled off. Elana stared miserably after him. Almost certainly he was right.

But it was only day one. Maybe tomorrow would be better.

**A/N: Please review, whether you liked it or hated it. Seriously, flames welcomed. Oh, and if you notice Elana turning into a Mary-Sue, SMACK US! DO NOT LET US DESTROY THIS STORY WITH A WEAK CENTRAL CHARACTER!**

**That is all.**


	6. The Force

**A/N: Hi! We **_**still **_**only have four reviews (guys! Come **_**on**_**!) Which even I have to say is pathetic, considering how many people there are on this fandom, and how frequently this story is updated. Pur-LEASE! If you haven't reviewed, review! And if you have, thanks, and review again! (Also, please get your mates to review this story too!**

**Right. Now to get on with the Chapter. **

**Chapter 5**

**Meanwhile, on Alderaan...**

Shan Sango was in a quandary.

His daughter had mysteriously disappeared, leaving no note, or clue to where she had gone. In the early morning of the previous day, he had been woken by a droid, telling him that his daughter's bed was empty.

Immediately he and his wife had searched the building, called all Elana's friends, and eventually found a clue with the captain of the guard.

'I'm sorry, sir. I remember seeing your daughter at the ball last night, but I don't know where she went after that. I talked to her, and she seemed rather strange. Then she said she had to leave early, and left the building.'

Shan had thanked him, and then, an awful idea had come into his mind. He had gone with all haste to his office in the palace, and on opening the door, his worst fears were realised.

_Why would Elana do something like this? She could be killed! What have I _done_? _

Elana had run away from home, and now he knew where. But the knowledge made him feel no better. There was nothing that gave any message, except one thing, which said everything: his smashed class cabinet.

***

'Hurry up, Sango!' Barked Mace Windu, who was standing at the top of the artificial cliff. 'Everyone else has finished!'

Elana gritted her teeth, and painfully advanced up the last stretch of rock face. She was almost there...

'C'mon, Caleb!' She heard Yannec groan. 'We wanna get lunch!' Around him, the other conscripts muttered in agreement.

With one last effort, Elana heaved herself onto the edge of the cliff, and stood up.

'Well done.' Mace Windu said sarcastically. Throughout her struggles, he hadn't once offered to lend a hand. Elana smiled grimly, and imagined him falling off the cliff. Of course, with his extensive force training and general all-round perfection he would probably just leap straight back up – and he was so balanced he would probably never fall in the first place, worse luck. 'Now you are all dismissed.'

As the Conscripts sat down to dinner, they began abusing their trainer with colourful language. Elana sat and ate quietly, knowing that no matter what they said now, not one of them would dare to go up against Master Windu. The man had total control over the conscripts – but it was only because they were intimidated by him. Elana didn't think that any of her fellow soldiers would even try to save his life if they were on the battlefield.

Mace Windu wasn't the best teacher in the galaxy.

***

'Come on, men, you're meant to be Soldiers, not idiots!'

_Last thing I heard it was Jedi we were supposed to be, _Elana grumbled, as she attempted to run and shoot droid holograms at the same time. She was OK at the shooting part. The trick was to keep running while she was doing it, and her stamina was running out fast. She winced as another energy-bolt hit her.

'Sango, don't just stand there!' Master Windu yelled toward her. Elana looked at him, smiling. If only an energy bolt would hit him in the back of the head...

Oh yes. Running and shooting at the droids.

Mace Windu once again waited until they had all completed the exercise before addressing them. 'Well, no more than I would expect from some,' he said bluntly, 'but not awful. Class dismissed.'

Elana was trudging along behind everyone else, when she noticed someone walking beside her. Looking up, she saw it was Qui-Gon Jinn, the Padawan who had greeted her on the first day.

'Hi Caleb,' he smiled in a friendly manner, 'Good day?'

'Do you really want me to answer that?' Elana grumbled. 'The guy had us shooting droids today, not to mention rock-climbing yesterday.' She still had bruises to prove it.

'And you're afraid of heights?' Qui-Gon teased. Elana glared at him. What was he doing, randomly coming up and acting like they'd been friends forever?

'No, I am not afraid of heights. I just happen to dislike rock-climbing.'

'You're not very strong, are you?' Qui-Gon guessed.

'No. I'm better at the whole, 'use his strength against you' thing. But Master Windu doesn't see it that way.' Elana smiled for a second, remembering Qui-Gon advising her to sleep, because she had Master Windu. _How right he was._ 'He's a total psycho.'

'I did warn you.' Qui-Gon said smugly.

'I guess you were right, then.' Elana was getting tired of Qui-Gon fast. He was being deliberately annoying, she was sure of it! 'Now if you'll excuse me...' She shifted around him, and headed toward the other conscripts.

'Hey, one moment.' Qui-Gon was there again, blocking her way. 'You're quite Force-sensitive, aren't you?'

'Ummmm... yes?' Elana wasn't quite sure what he was getting at with this.

'Well if you want my advice,' said Qui-Gon, beginning to turn away, 'Use the Force. It'll help, I think. See ya!' Then he walked off, leaving Elana even more confused than she had been before. What was he on about?

***

They were back on the obstacle course. Elana groaned inwardly as she approached it, knowing that she was going to be last – _again – _and end up embarrassing herself for the hundredth time in front of the class and Mace Windu. She was really regretting ever signing up for this. She wouldn't have if she had known what it would entail.

The buzzer went, and conscripts rushed toward the first obstacle. Elana was grumbling inwardly; her teacher _hated_ her, she was rubbish at _everything _they did, they weren't even getting to use the _Force..._

_FORCE!_

Elana stopped in her tracks, her brain whirling. She might not be as strong as the others in her class... but she had something that they didn't – something that she intended to try using right now.

Elana closed her eyes, and focused. She could feel something around her, something strong – she focused all her will on that, concentrating solely on this mysterious energy she felt, near her – inside her. Using all her mental strength, Elana reached to the bottom of her soul. And then, something fell into place. She wasn't sure just how it had happened, but it wasn't important. All that mattered was that now, she was really – _really – _using the force.

With a new sense of strength and confidence, Elana opened her eyes, and ran toward the wall.

***

Mace Windu stood supervising the Conscript's training, taking note of who was where, and shouting instruction and criticism toward them. He paced up and down, surveying their progress.

A few boys were doing well, in front of most of the others. He hardly bothered to glance at them; they could take care of themselves.

Most of the boys were about a third of the way through the course, in a moving pack of about thirty. He glanced at them, annoyed. They were talking.

'Stop distracting the others, you two! Yannec, you're not climbing that wall right, go back down and start again! All of you spread out and don't talk!'

The boys silently did as he asked. Mace was pleased. He had control over the men, that was apparent – and everyone knew that discipline was the first step toward a good army. Mace's smile faded as he prepared himself to see Caleb Sango, a few obstacles behind everyone else, and yell at him. The boy irritated him a great deal, especially the way he never even fought back, just took all the shouting lying down. That was annoying beyond belief. Mace turned his head toward the end of the course...

But a second later, did a double take. Sango wasn't there! Startled, Mace Windu glanced all around the area. Had the boy decided to leave, or had he just fallen down and died? Mace was about to ask if anyone had seen Caleb, but then, as his eyes fell on the few front-runners, he gasped in surprise.

There was Caleb, at the very front of the group! Not even out of breath, but with a look of immense concentration on his face, he was gracefully clearing even the most challenging obstacles at an abnormal speed. Mace noted, with growing alarm, that he was even hanging back so he didn't get too far ahead of the rest!

_Huh, _thought Mace Windu, trying to calm down, _he's not doing _that _well. Anyway, he's drawing really heavily on the Force and- _

Wait, WHAT?!

'Sango!' Mace shouted, running toward the obstacle Caleb was currently on. Now he was really wierded out. _How _had _Sango_ managed to harness the Force?

***

Elana stopped wearily and turned. Mace Windu was running over to the obstacle that she was on. Truth to tell, she was surprised and annoyed that he had stopped her; she had really been enjoying herself.

'Oh, what _now_?' she blurted without thinking. Around her, a few people laughed, and she noticed Mace's look of surprise heighten-

Wait, Mace was looking surprised? Not angry? Elana turned around to look at him properly. Instead of the sarcastic, critical face she was used to, her Master looked surprised and curious - maybe even a tiny bit impressed.

'Sango, are you using the Force?' Master Windu sounded shocked.

'Er, yeah, I guess.' Suddenly Elana felt tongue-tied. 'Ummm... is there a problem with that?'

Suddenly, Master Windu's face cleared. 'No, of course not! Good work, Sango.' Then he walked quickly away.

Elana turned, and began on the obstacle course again. She had actually _impressed _Mace Windu! In a better mood than she'd been in for a long time, Elana took a deep breath and ran on to the next challenge of the obstacle course. Maybe today she would be the first into dinner.

And if she was, the first thing she would do would be to thank Qui-Gon.

* * *

'His face!' Yannec crowed as they clattered down the hall towards dinner. 'Great talking back, Cal, it's about time someone did it.'

Cal? Since when was she called Cal?

Since she answered back to Mace Windu, evidently...

'It just proves,' another boy began to rant, 'that he doesn't actually expect us to be able to use the Force, he just likes yelling at us anyway. And when someone manages it –'he clapped Elana on the shoulder – 'he's like: dur?! Good job, man, can you show me how to do that.'

'Uh, I dunno, never tried to explain it before...' she said cautiously.

'Yeah, I think that's the hard part, and Windu does explain well when he's not being a bastard,' someone said. 'I think he could be a good teacher if he'd just chill out.'

'Yeah, as if!'

Elana entered the canteen, ducking her head against the noise. It wasn't such a good plan, though, as she almost immediately crashed into someone.

'Watch where you're going!' she snapped.

'You're the one with your head down, Caleb,' a droll voice said. She looked up properly to see Qui-Gon standing in front of her. 'So how'd it go?' he asked, pulling her over to a table. 'You figure out what I meant about the Force?'

'Yes, no thanks to you.' She'd noticed that boys hardly ever expressed gratitude. 'Could you have _been_ more cryptic?'

'Probably,' he smirked. 'The Force is a mysterious and powerful entity. But it didn't seem fair for Master Windu to be kicking you all around like that when the course is only ever used by Padawans with the Force. How did he take it?'

'Quite well actually. Even said well done. He can actually be encouraging when he tries, impossible as it seems.'

'Yeah.' Qui-Gon rolled his eyes but then became more serious. 'I think his problem is he puts great pressure on himself to perform to standard. He's the youngest ever Jedi to be elected onto the Council, did you know that?' Elana shook her head, letting his superior question pass. 'So anyway, he's really worried he's not up to standard. He was appointed specially to train the conscripts, so you guys are just caught in the cross-fire I'm afraid.'

'So he thinks he's got to train us up to perfection to prove himself to the Council?' Elana clarified. 'Great.'

At that moment, their conversation was interrupted by the approach by another Jedi, who she instinctively recognised to be Qui-Gon's master. He had dark, glittering eyes and lightly silvered hair; there was an air about him that suggested that he had seen everything, and was now just thinking it over.

'Good evening, Padawan.' He greeted Qui-Gon in deep, resonant tones.

'Master!' Qui-Gon exclaimed, twisting in his seat and half-rising. 'Master, this is Caleb Sango, he's a conscript under Master Windu.'

'I am Jard Dooku,' the knight introduced himself. He looked directly into her eyes as he spoke his next words. 'I knew your father well. A fine swordsman; though it was quite understandable that he left.' His sounded full of implications she couldn't fathom. Then he looked away, toward Qui-Gon.

'Come, Padawan,' he said, laying a hand on his shoulder.

' 'Bye Caleb,' Qui-Gon said, and the two walked away across the canteen. As they went Qui-Gon bent his head to listen to something Dooku was saying. Elana noticed how his joking face had become graver, his expression attentive. What wisdom was Dooku imparting to him, that made him listen so carefully? What must it be like to be Qui-Gon, to have a master like that?

Her thoughts strayed back to Mace Windu. His voice was just as commanding when it wasn't raised stridently across a field, and he taught by command rather than wisdom. But it wasn't his fault; plainly he was under too much stress, teaching dozens of rough-and-ready conscripts; it wasn't really a fair test for him. Might he be a better Master to an individual; someone properly Force-sensitive, and worthy of his talent...

Someone like her?

No. _No _way. Mace Windu hated her. She hated Mace Windu. He was effortlessly nasty to her most of the time. That was just a fact of life.

Wasn't it?

YES! He had been impressed with Elana's Force-channelling. But - though she said so herself – anyone would have been. Just because he had said the words 'well done' to her did _not _make her want to be his Padawan.

'But it does,' a small voice in her mind seemed to say, 'the fact he was nice to you makes you want to be his Padawan.'

'Fine.' Elana sighed mentally. 'Let's just say, for argument's sake, you're right. What does that mean?' Then Elana winced. She was actually talking to herself now – calling a voice in her own head _you _had to be a sign of schizophrenia. If she turned out to be mad, she was so suing Mace Windu-

'See? Mace Windu keeps randomly coming into your head whenever you think of anything.' This voice was sounding more and more like Behra. 'Why do you think that might be, Elana?'

'Ummm...'

The Behra-voice kept arguing. 'And just now, you were worrying about him being under too much stress. Come on Elana, you may as well admit it to yourself!'

'Admit what?' Elana pretended not to know, though she had a pretty good idea what.

'_You know what. _Come on, Elana. You think about him a lot of the time. You worry about him. You have strong emotions and thoughts regarding him. When he said something even remotely nice to you, you started dreaming about being his Padawan! You can't stay in denial much longer, Elana.'

'Well, I have news for you, if you think that I-'

But then, as suddenly as a comlink being disconnected, the voice was gone – and any pretence with it. Elana stood shakily, and made her way over to the place where the other conscripts were sitting. Emotionally drained, she slumped into a chair on the end of the table. Elana felt pale, and not really much like eating. However, she forced down her stew – deflecting conversations left, right and centre - and then, as soon as was plausibly possible, turned into bed early.

Staring up at the ceiling of her dormitory, Elana knew that though she had gone to bed first, she would be the last to sleep. Her mind was just too busy, the thoughts in overdrive, trying to make some sense of the mess her life had become; it had been bad enough before, but now, it was just plain confusion.

It wasn't enough that she had run away from home, impersonated a boy, up until then had been struggling in class, and that she had a master who hated her. Oh no – now she turned out to be mildly schizophrenic too. However, she could understand that she had brought most of that on herself.

But what – _what – _the force had she done to deserve that she had a crush on Mace Windu? It just wasn't fair.

Though Elana previously wouldn't have believed it was possible, life had just got a whole lot harder.

* * *


	7. Bricks and Drowning

Chapter 6

Over the weeks that passed Elana began to use the Force more and more in her training, tentatively at first, but then more and more as she saw that the others, far from being jealous, seemed inspired by her new abilities. They regarded every corner she cut as one in the eye for Master Windu, and were even managing to use the Force themselves. Elana just wished she meant what she said when she joined in their jubilant gloating after training. She might pretend she enjoyed proving him wrong, but in truth she did it for the praise he gave her, grudgingly at first, but with more and more sincerity as she progressed.

He was still reserved towards her, still pushed them as hard as they could go, but she got the impression that he was much happier now that he was getting some results. The conscripts' morale rose as he praised them more freely, and on top of that life was just so much easier with the Force. When they ran with heavy packs or lifted weights she could simply raise them with the Force, and when one of the Conscripts grumbled that she was cheating Master Windu actually pointed out that she would have the same powers to call on in a battle, and then spent the next ten minutes giving the boy a detailed explanation of how to begin to channel the Force.

She had completed a cross-country run and was catching her breath when she discovered another use for the Force. She became aware of a presence behind her and reflexively jabbed her elbow back in a strike Master Windu had taught them, catching Yannec in the stomach.

'Sneaking up on me?' she asked as he lay groaning theatrically on the ground.

'OK, OK, you win! Ow!'

Several other Conscripts came running up.

'Hey boys, Caleb can see behind him with the Force,' Yannec informed them from the ground.

'Oh yeah?'

'He's got the bruises to prove it,' Elana smirked.

'Conscripts!' Mace Windu's voice cut into their conversation. Elana tried to keep her face impassive as he frowned at her, though she was overtly conscious of his dark eyes and the strong lines of his face. How much more handsome would he be if he would smile at her for a change? What had she done to make him dislike her so much?

'I don't want you knocking each other about too much,' he said sternly. 'I need you all in good condition.'

'He started it,' Elana muttered.

'I meant both of you,' he answered, turning away. 'Carry these packs back.'

'We're soldiers, not pack-donkeys, master.' Elana moaned for the sake of it; though she knew it would make no difference, she had learned it was customary for boys. However, it might not have been worth it this time...

To her surprise, instead of ordering them to carry two bags each, Mace seemed to almost smile. 'Nevertheless, a good soldier should be able to act as both. You're carrying them.' Mace turned and strode away.

'You know, I think he's improving,' Yannec said as they lifted the heavy bags. 'Carry this for me, would you Cal?'

'You won't have Sango to help you on the battlefield, do it yourself!' Master Windu yelled over his shoulder, so suddenly that Elana nearly dropped the bag on her toe.

'Oh Force, I take it back,' Yannec grumbled, hauling the bag onto his shoulder. Elana carried hers manually in a show of solidarity, and by the time they got to the main temple, she was pouring with sweat and almost as disgruntled as he was. While they made their way back to their quarters, Yannec grumbled about how annoying their Master was, using a fair amount of swear words. Elana was only just getting used to the amount that boys swore; she had learnt more obscenities in the past three weeks than the rest of her life.

However, a few minutes later, the conversation got trickier. Yannec looked toward her, quizically.

'Cal?'

Elana went onto the defensive at once. 'Er... yeah?'

'No offence, or anything, Cal, but you're not exactly strong, are you?'

She sighed; he was the second person to make that observation. 'I guess not.' She answered cautiously.

'Then_ why _can you do all that force-type stuff, when we can't?' grumbled Yannec, as they reached the dorm. 'It's not fair. Like, what's different about you that means that Ican't do it, but you can?' Yannec looked over at her with genuine puzzlement on his face.

_Er, because I'm a girl, and I have a midi-chlorian count that's about 10,000 higher than yours. It might just have something to do with the fact that I'm trying really hard, 'cause I have a huge crush on Master Windu as well... _maybe the truth wasn't the best answer in this situation.

'I dunno... maybe because my count's higher than yours, or something.' Elana put forward the statement cautiously, making it seem like a casual thought. Without waiting for an answer, she shrugged and headed for the door.

'I'm just gonna get some food, so I don't die in my sleep. See ya.'

As soon as she got out of the room, Elana slowed down, sighing in relief. Leading a double life wasn't as easy as it looked.

* * *

The next morning, the conscripts came into the room that they waited in every morning. The bell went to signal that the first hour had started; but unusually, Mace Windu did not come straight into the room as usual. They had been waiting for at least fifteen minutes, grumbling and shoving each other, when Elana felt him approaching – but he wasn't alone; he had Ki-Adi-Mundi with him.

'Where _is_ he?' Yannec grumbled next to her, shifting his weight from foot to foot. 'My legs hurt...'

'He'll be entering...' Elana closed her eyes, sensing the presence in the corridor outside, 'in three...two...one...'

The door to the training room burst open, and every Initiate apart from her jumped.

'You are damned scary,' the conscripts around her muttered.

'Silence!' Mace ordered. 'Did you anticipate my entrance, Sango?'

_He can't blame me for this! _'Yes Master.'

Mace looked slightly disconcerted, but made no comment. 'Then you will be the first to demonstrate how the Force can be used to see, by retrieving a block from the bottom of the pool. We are going to be in the pool room today, and Master Mundi will be watching.' Mace did not seem to be very happy about this.

'You.' He turned to the boy who had spoken to her. 'Carry these.' He thrust a sack of heavy bricks into Yannec's arms and set off towards the pool, his long robes swirling behind him.

Elana's mind had now frozen with panic. Swimming? _Swimming? _That meant... it meant...

...that in mere seconds everyone would see under her robe, see her for what she really was, and she would surely be cast out of the Jedi temple, a disgrace. But even worse, first she would have to try and stand as Mace Windu turned his scorching scorn on her.

They entered the pool room and lined up along the side. Ki-Adi-Mundi was sitting in the opposite corner, scribbling notes on them. _How much can you write about some boys walking into a room? _she briefly wondered. Just then, Mace raised one of the blocks and caught her eye, hefting it by his shoulder, and flung it into the water. It hit the surface in the centre of the pool.

'Put this on,' he instructed, handing her a blindfold. 'I want you to swim down and retrieve the brick. Use the Force.' He nodded and stepped back. Elana bound the blindfold around her eyes, then began to unbutton her jacket.

'_Straight_ in!' Mace Windu's voice seemed to come from every side at once. 'Do you think you'd have time to strip off in an emergency? Just pull off your cloak and go!'

Elana was weak with relief. Thank the Force her teacher was so harsh! Elana flung off the heavy cloak with a slight flourish (she heard a splutter of protest behind her and wondered if she'd flung it a little too hard) and plunged into the water. Swimming had never been her best subject; fencing had taken up most of her time. But she knew the basics, and had been taught how to dive. _Now, to find that brick._

Under the water, in the deafening silence, the route to the Force seemed obvious. She could almost see the floor of the pool...there was no colour, but definitely shapes. She dived deeper, heading straight for the brick. Her hand closed around it triumphantly. _Got it!_

Suddenly Elana wondered how long she had been under. Her lungs were straining. When she had felt the Force she'd lost all track of time. She tried to swim for the surface, but one arm was weighed down by the brick and the other became entangled in her robes – the same robes she'd been so anxious to keep on. Curses!

_Whatever he says_, she thought wildly, _if I ever have to dive for a brick in an emergency, I'm stripping off first._ One intention was in her mind (other than staying alive): to get the brick above the water and prove she'd done it. She shoved her hand into the air and waved the brick, but the rest of her was still below the surface, hopelessly snarled in the robe. Her wrist twinged and she gasped, taking in water.

'He's got it!' one of the boys crowed.

'Wait...he's glugging!' someone else said.

'Oi, Caleb, you OK? Oh my God, Caleb!'

Just then, a terrific splash sounded from somewhere close to her, and then a vice-like arm closed around her chest.

'Stop thrashing, I've got you,' Mace Windu grunted. The brick was wrenched from her grasp, and then, she was rising. There was a splash at her head broke the surface, a sickening floating sensation, and then her feet hit solid land. Mace Windu had just Force-lifted her, himself and the brick out of the pool! It clattered noisily to the floor beside her.

Elana's knees gave out and she crumpled to the floor. Mace rolled her onto her back and pounded down on her chest, and she began to cough up water. He knelt over her, his face thunderous.

'Why did you start flailing around like that? You were doing fine. You panicked, didn't you?'

Elana gazed up into his furious face, breathing deeply. She vaguely noticed that there was commotion all around them, but most of her attention was on Master Windu. He had acted so swiftly and effortlessly to save her...she remembered how strong and secure his arm had felt around her chest...his wet robes clung to the line of his broad, muscled shoulders...

'...wasting time here. Sango! Sango, are you listening to me?'

'Yes Master!' she gasped, trying to clear her mind of all Mace-related thoughts.

'Wipe that smile off your face and get back in line. It is plain we have a _lot_ of work to do here. Yannec, you next!'

The boys shuffled back into line, muttering mutinously about putting the teacher in a Bad Mood. Elana turned and glowered at the brick. This was all it's fault.

* * *

Elana walked down the corridor toward the Dining Hall. It was the end of the day, and she was worn out and starving. The Jedi food was good and filling, if a bit bland.

Suddenly she heard a voice behind her. 'Caleb!' A second later she remembered that Caleb was her name, and whirled around to see Qui-Gon running down the corridor, his braid flapping behind him.

'Hey, Qui,' she greeted him. 'Are you going to dinner?'

'Yeah. Do you want to sit with me?' Entering the dining hall, Qui-Gon proceeded to shove gargantuan amounts of everything onto his tray, receiving startled looks from a few of the masters and Elana. There were only a few other teens there – most Padawans and recruits chose to eat earlier. They had a table to themselves.

As Elana and Qui-Gon sat down, Ki-Adi-Mundi stomped past them. He was staring straight ahead and glowering; unsurprisingly, as he was sporting a spectacular black eye. Elana watched him with interest.

'Hey, what happened to Master Mundi?' she asked. Qui-Gon laughed.

'He got hit by a rogue lifebelt during a swimming lesson today,' he replied indistinctly, his mouth full of food. He swallowed, then turned to look at her. 'Wait... why am I telling you? It was your lesson!_ You _should remember, you were the one who drowned! From what I heard.' He amended.

'Oh yeah, I did 'drown' – I got tangled up in my robe, but I'm glad we were wearing them. I couldn't move, and started sinking. Then Master Windu pulled me out,' Elana replied, but then, replaying the sentence in her head, realised her mistake – no, make that _mistakes_. She had given away clues to her two biggest secrets in one sentence! She really hoped her voice wasn't doing anything funny when she said Mace's name... _why_ had she brought him into the conversation?

Qui-Gon didn't seem to have noticed anything, yet. 'It must have been hilarious – I wish I could've been there,' he said wistfully. Then his eyes snapped back to Elana. '_How _didn't you notice the funniest thing of the century?'

She involuntarily flushed. _Oh force, he's bound to guess something now. _'Erm, I was... preoccupied...' too late she realised how it must sound, and began to backtrack. 'I mean, that is... with drowning-'

'With drowning? I see...' A smirk was spreading across Qui-Gon's face.

'Well drowning is preoccupying, you know,' she said lightly, taking a huge mouthful of food and choking to avert suspicion.

'I suppose...can't say I've ever tried it myself.'

* * *

After dinner, Elana went to the salle. She had decided, after she and Qui-Gon's conversation, that she should probably try and distract herself; a few basic katas were sure to take her mind off things.

Elana struck the first defensive stance that Mace had shown them before he had decided that they weren't good enough. Then, she moved into a basic attack pattern; partially stances Mace had shown them on their first day, but mostly just fencing ripostes, adapted slightly. A few minutes later, she decided that having a pole would help her a lot – she really needed something to centre her movements around. Elana went over to the storage containers, and pulled out a staff, weighted at either end, then restarted her routine, attempting to balance the pole in each hand as she went through the steps. She smiled; for the first time that day, she could properly focus.

* * *

Mace Windu was having a severe case of mixed feelings. He had no idea if he was pleased or annoyed as to the outcome of that morning's lesson. On the one hand, Ki-Adi could hardly be thrilled about his black eye, and the entire fiasco at the start of the lesson was... well, a fiasco. Ki-Adi would be sure to emphasise it in his report.

But Mace had to admit, up until... a certain conscript... had panicked and started to drown, the lesson had been going well. The... pupil had been showing a good demonstration of the force; Master Mundi could not just ignore that. And though he knew he shouldn't Mace had to try not to laugh now, whenever he saw Master Mundi's eye.

That wasn't a plus side, of course.

He had decided it would be best to take refuge in the salle. That way he could, for a while, just forget that morning and clear his mind. There was nothing like exercise to take your mind off thi-

_Oh, Force!_

_Why _did Sango have to be practising his katas at this exact time?

Mace felt a desire to run out of the salle and bang his head on something. It wasn't fair! Now, if he could manage to just quietly go out, shut the door behind him and-

No. Supposing Caleb had realised he was there? Though the boy had made no pause in his monotonous routine, with his force skills, he might have sensed Mace's presence. Mace couldn't risk looking like an idiot. Now he was here, he would haveto stay for a plausible length of time. Abruptly he felt guilty. It was unfair to bear a grudge against a student for no good reason. He would go in there and be civil.

'Good evening, Sango,' he said cordially.

Sango, it turned out, had not been aware of his presence. At the sound of Mace's voice he jumped, dropped the staff he had been using onto his foot, and let out a stream of extremely colourful language.

The cursing made Mace feel instantly more at ease. It was nice to know the boy wasn't a total wimp. He cut off sharply with a hand half way to his mouth and his face frozen in horror, but Mace was amused more than shocked. However, he felt he ought to put Sango at ease. _He must really think I'm a monster_, he thought._ He must have jumped a foot in the air when I spoke. I haven't been fair to him._

'If you want to become like a soldier it is essential that you learn to curse like one,' he grinned.

'Sorry, Master, didn't see you there,' Sango said, bending to retrieve his pole, and the tension Mace had felt upon entering the salle dissolved. There was nothing so terribly aggravating about Sango's face now he looked at it. It was quite a pleasant face in fact, trustworthy and kind. Engaging even. Mace moved further away to give him space and began an exercise regime, keeping half his mind on Sango's progress as he did so.

He had seemed to be doing well, but Mace could sense the frustration coming off him, as well as a kind of wistful melancholy. Homesickness, perhaps? A furious sigh sounded behind him. He remembered how hard he'd been on himself when he was that age...

Suddenly Caleb hurled the pole across the salle. He was hurrying to pick it up with a muttered apology almost before Mace could react, but then returned, balancing it carefully in his hands.

'I'm sorry, Master,' Caleb sighed, 'I just can't seem to concentrate.' the boy was speaking the truth, but there seemed to be some hidden meaning behind his words.

'Does that have anything to do with this morning, Sango?' Mace guessed.

'Partly.' Caleb mumbled. He sounded so unhappy that Mace decided that if there was a time and place to lecture Caleb about not panicking when he ran out of air, this was not it.

Instead, he decided to try and be encouraging. 'You panicked, it's true; but you were doing well up until then.'

Caleb seemed to brighten slightly. 'Really? I did feel like I was...using the Force well, but I just can't seem to get these katas right. It's so _tiring_...' The anger was back.

'I'm not surprised. You need weeks of instruction to learn to do it with minimum effort. Here...' He reached out, gesturing how he should move. 'See?'

'It is much easier, Master.'

'Yes.' Mace sighed. 'To be honest with you, Caleb, I think you're wasted on the soldier training programme. You would do better as a Padawan learner.'

'Y-you think so?' He seemed flustered all of a sudden. But then he wasn't exactly used to receiving reassurance from his Masters, Mace thought dryly.

'Yes I do,' he answered. 'I will suggest to the Council that you are chosen when we come to select Conscripts for higher training.' Mace was quite surprised at himself. Up until a few seconds a go he had been unable to stand the sight of the boy, and now here he was, volunteering to keep him on. But though Caleb looked pleased, he seemed to be even more wrong-footed than before.

'I should...go...' he was muttering. He bowed awkwardly. 'Good day, Master Windu.'

Mace watched him go, frowning slightly. He should really try boosting the conscripts' morale more often, get them used to it. He reflected that Caleb had actually been doing extremely well for someone with so little training.

That boy might really amount to something.

* * *

Elana burst into the changing rooms and collapsed hyperventilating on a bench.

_He said my name...he said my name...Force, he said my name. _

'You are being ridiculous.'

_He said my name...Caleb, he said._

'It's not even _your_ name.'

The Behra voice was back.

_Look, I know it's ridiculous, but it just...it's like I exist as a person to him now._

'What did I tell you?' The voice sounded distinctly smug. 'That's one _major_ crush you've got, girl.'

_Oh, Hoth. _

Elana wished with all her heart that Behra was really there, to analyse emotions and suggest a plan of action, however ridiculous. She needed someone to tell about how handsome Mace was, how he made her feel, the way he looked when he sat and stood and walked. Someone who would giggle and roll her eyes and say: "I so _know_ what you mean, he is pretty hot." How typical, that just when she had escaped the mindless girly chatter that had always annoyed her, she found herself wanting it.

_How_ were you meant to keep something like this bottled up inside?

Tell Qui-Gon?

**NO!**

_What, then? _

Elana dropped her head into her hands, groaning slightly. Well, she'd got herself into this mess. She would just have to deal with it.

'Oh, well.'

_Huh? What do mean, "Oh well"?_

'At least now you know he doesn't hate you.' That was true. Elana had to try hard not to let this affect her mood. After all, what difference did that make? It didn't change her problem in the slightest.

_And I suppose _you _already knew that he didn't hate me? _She tried for sarcasm, but was genuinely puzzled. _What _exactly did this voice know?

'Well,' it answered, 'I have my theories of what's happening. Don't have a haemorrhage trying to figure out what I mean.'

Elana walked out of the changing rooms and toward her dorm, trying to think of something that wasn't Mace or mysterious voices, but failing miserably. She decided there was no point even trying to work out what Behra meant, but it was _so _hard not to go through every word and action, analysing it, searching her subconscious for answers...

Elana fell asleep puzzling over Mace; and her dreams were no easier.


	8. Meanwhile

Meanwhile, in an abandoned monastery on Teth...

The two men walked down the corridor, followed by a guard of droids. The shorter of the two was protesting in a low hiss.

'We can't come out into the open. It is far too dangerous!'

'Sometimes, my apprentice, risks are necessary in order to achieve ambitions. I believe that if we play this hand well, my plan will succeed.'

'But master-' the man's voice stopped with a slight gagging noise, as his master cut off his air supply.

'Do not oppose my plans.' He warned the younger man, and then dropped him.

'Yes - my master...' he gasped, tottering as he regained his breath.

'You will go back to your home planet of Naboo, and supervise the transportation of the droids to Bestine. I will summon our army on Feluucia, and our forces will be assembled within five weeks.' The Dark Lord's hood slipped back for a moment, revealing a pair of glowing red eyes. Though his apprentice was already in his late thirties, his master was considerably older; but he did not let anyone know his exact age, or species. Most of the time, he kept his face hidden by a hood or mask, and his apprentice and he were never associated in public – nothing to lead the enemy to each other, if one were caught.

The Sith smiled wickedly, imagining the Jedi who would die. 'We will announce our forces to the galaxy before Bestine's moon completes its next cycle.' he said quietly. 'Finally, we will reveal ourselves to the Jedi, Darth S-' suddenly, he stiffened, and pulled out his lightsaber. Half-a-second and a flash of red later, a spy-droid just around the corner lay in pieces.

'This building is not safe,' he muttered, 'We must leave. Tomorrow on Bestine, apprentice.' the two men quickly separated, each taking a separate exits.

His apprentice hurried through a small side door, and slipped into a small, fast speeder. He was a more cautious man than his Master and did not agree with the plans, but knew better than to argue. They would see who was right soon enough...


	9. Trials

**A/N: Guys, guess what? I have compiled a playlist for this story! Once the whole story is up, you can read it to the music... and you will understand. (heh heh, I sound like Mufasar now, don't I?)**

**Anyway, here it is:  
Breakaway - Kelly Clarkson  
Aserejé - Las Ketchup  
Automatic High – S Club Juniors (sorry about this one, it is really quite nauseating!)  
Disturbia – Rihanna  
Hot 'n' Cold – Katy Perry  
Waterloo – ABBA  
Behind these hazel eyes – Kelly Clarkson  
If this is love – The Saturdays  
Everyday – High School Musical 2  
What hurts the most – Cascada/ Because of you – Kelly Clarkson (you can really see I've been listening to the 'breakaway' album too many times! =D)  
(Epilogue): Everyday (reprise) – HSM as before. **

**Now wait till the story's done, and then listen to them! Enjoy the chapter! **

**Chapter 7**

'So you survived your near-death experience yesterday?' Yannec asked her while they waited for Mace the next day.

'Uhn,' Elana grunted. She was in no mood for Yannec's joking. After tossing and turning for hours last night she'd fallen asleep to a lot of confusing, panicky chaos dreams, none of them involving Mace but all somehow infused with his presence, and tiring to boot.

'...the funniest thing I've ever seen,' Yannec was burbling on. 'I think Windu was totally freaked at the idea of killing one of us, he went plunging in like a maniac, there was water everywhere...'

Elana looked up sharply, unduly struck by the idea that Mace might leap anywhere 'like a maniac' in order to save her...

'...I tried to Force-fling a life belt to you, didn't quite work out, I managed to move the belt all right but it hit Ki-Adi Mundi in the eye...oh well, it's still the most complex thing I've ever done with the Force, so that's an improvement, right? Hey, Ki-Adi and Windu don't like each other much, do they?'

'Ki-Adi was glaring at Mace for the rest of the day.' Another conscript agreed.

So, what do you think, Cal? Why would Ki-Adi not like Mace?'

Elana sighed, reluctantly joining in the conversation.

'I think, maybe, he's jealous. Because Mace is already on the council, and he's only, like, thirty.' Elana suggested, recalling her conversation with Qui-Gon a few weeks before. 'At least, that's what Qui-Gon Jinn told me.'

'Isn't Qui-Gon one of the Padawans who was there on the first day?' enquired a Conscript, 'Do you guys hang out?' he looked suitably impressed that Elana was friends with a Padawan. Wait, was she friends with Qui-Gon? Elana supposed she was.

'Uh, yeah. I guess. Sometimes.'

'Cool,' was the only response she got. But Elana was left with an alarming thought: Yesterday, had Qui-Gon noticed anything? Now that she thought back, the conversation they had had yesterday suggested that he might have guessed something. She wasn't too worried that he had noticed anything about her false identity, but had he noticed anything about... Mace?

By then, conversation drifted to more interesting topics, and Qui-Gon was quickly forgotten, for the moment. As the conscripts waited for Master Windu, Yannec raised an issue.

'Guys,' he said suddenly, 'when are we actually going to _do _anything in the army?'

'I know, right? We were told we were gonna be fighting, not just randomly hanging around, learning pointless-'

Enter Mace Windu.

'_Thank you _for that comment on your training, Sol,' Mace Windu said icily, 'but I think that you will find that, as of next week, the exercises will become less – as you choose to describe it – _pointless.'_

The class stood up a little straighter. Elana listened even more attentively than she had before. What could Mace mean?

'The council has decided that you have progressed enough in your training,' Mace paused for dramatic effect, then carried on, 'that you are ready to be assigned to individual masters, as Padawans.'

There was a buzz of excitement throughout the room. Mace held up his hand, and everyone became quiet.

'Last night, the council had a meeting, and it was decided that a simple trial would be held, and based on the results, you would be assigned to Masters. Some of you will continue to work in groups, instructed by one Master, while others will be made individual Padawans. Some of the current senior Padawans will be taking classes with you, and they will also be helping some groups practise in combat skills and sparring.'

'As the Sith have made no direct moves, yet, we must continue to train and prepare for the time they come into the open.' Mace explained. 'We must be prepared, and though I know it is hard to be kept waiting-'

_Who is this, and what has he done with Mace Windu? _Elana thought, dazed. He was actually _empathising _with them. Her admiration for him grew.

'- patience is necessary, if this war is to be won.' Mace concluded. 'Is everybody clear?'

'Yes, Master!' The boys chorused. Looking around the room, Elana saw the boys looking more inspired than they had done for weeks, of not ever. Where there had been suppressed yawns and sullen glances before, now the conscripts were whispering excitedly, seeming enthusiastic and ready to start. For a moment, Elana wondered if the change of Mace's character had anything to do with their conversation last night – which still made her feel warm and fuzzy just thinking about. Could Mace have decided that she wasn't so bad?

_Stop that thought train NOW, Sango! _Elana told herself. She _had _to get a grip on herself, or there was no knowing what she would say – except she would probably regret it later.

* * *

The tests started that afternoon, and for the next five days, the Conscripts were tested on everything from climbing and running to knowledge of Galactic history, instructed by Mace and observed by the rest of the Council. She could feel their Master's anxiety now, barely kept in check, but now he was praising them, albeit in a tense voice, rather than taking it out on them, and everyone gave their best. Elana tried as hard as she could, not stopping or resting for a moment.

More than once she found herself feeling slightly lightheaded, but it was easier to access the Force when she was partly out of it. Mace Windu gave her a curt but approving nod when she finished a new obstacle course ahead of everyone else. She walked past him towards the supervising Master, but swayed slightly with tiredness.

'Don't overdo it, Sango,' he said shortly, steadying her with a hand on her shoulder. Elana regained her balance, and continued walking; though, if anything, she was even more light-headed than before.

But this time, in a good way.

* * *

Their final test consisted of a spar before a member of the Council. When Elana entered the salle five separate battles were going on at once, each supervised by a Master. A group of Padawans were standing at one end of the room, waiting to serve as opponents.

'Caleb Sango!' Elana turned to see Yoda walking towards her. 'Observe you now, I can. Qui-Gon Jinn, your partner can be.'

Elana nodded and made her way over to Qui-Gon. She could feel Yoda's eyes boring into her back, but anything was better than having them on her face, thinly disguised as it was with smudges of makeup dreamed up by her friend in fun. Those eyes didn't just see her face. They read her very soul as easily as a printed page.

'Don't go easy on me, Qui-Gon,' she said sternly as they squared up to one another.

'Now would I do a thing like that?' he grinned, and bowed formally. She returned the gesture, and then he lunged forward, not quite too fast for her to block, but almost. In seconds she found herself, metaphorically speaking, fighting for her life. Her fencing had not prepared her for the controlled aggression of lightsaber combat; it was all she could do to keep blocking his blows.

Having thoroughly intimidated her with his first attack, Qui-Gon pulled back and circled her, watching for an opening. Without warning he sprang forwards, and once again she barely got her defence up in time, leaving her unbalanced and vulnerable. But instead of pressing his attack he retreated again, sabre poised and ready. She saw now what he was doing. Not going easy on her but fighting this duel in a way that tested her abilities in every scenario, so Master Yoda could see how she would cope in any situation.

When he lunged again she was ready for him and parried the blow in time, following it up with several short attacks of her own. Qui-Gon blocked each one deftly but let her continue her attack, so that Yoda could get a good look at her technique.

A few seconds later, Qui-Gon knocked her sabre out of the way, crouched backwards a little and then abruptly disappeared from her field of vision. In the time it took her to realise that he'd Force-leapt over her head he was behind her, stabbing his sabre forwards. She rolled under his blade, made a kick at his legs which went wide, and landed up sprawling on the floor with Qui-Gon standing over her, his lightsaber to her throat.

Elana pressed her lips together. Ok, ok, he'd won. Were the theatrics strictly necessary?

Past him she glimpsed Master Yoda, sitting on some sort of hover chair with – oh _Force_ – Mace Windu beside him, one hand thoughtfully cupping his chin.

'All right, let me up already,' she muttered, batting at the lightsaber. It was a harmless training blade and only stung a little.

'See what you mean I do,' she heard Yoda say as she scrambled to her feet. 'Impressive the boy is.'

Elana froze. See what you mean? Impressive? Had Mace actually been recommending her to Master Yoda?

'Caleb?' Qui-Gon asked. 'Are you all right?'

She wrenched her eyes away from the two Masters to look at him. 'Yes. Why?'

'That was very good,' he complimented, mopping his brow while their elders conferred.

'What do you mean? You wiped the floor with me.'

'I've been training all my life. Trust me, it was an impressive performance.'

Elana considered, leaning against the rail to get her breath back. She supposed she hadn't done badly for a first try. But a lot of that was to do with the way that Qui-Gon has fought the duel. She had seen another side to him; more concentrated and mature than his usual joking manner. He had really been playing to teach, and done it well. One day, she reflected, he might make a good Master.

Qui-Gon leaned slightly closer to her. 'I think that Master Windu was pretty impressed by your performance too,' he grinned.

Elana's heartbeat quickened. How much did Qui-Gon know? And _was _Mace Windu impressed by her? _No, no, no! You should be worrying that Qui's guessed that you're in love, not what Mace thought of your performance. But I wonder how much of it he was watching for... did he see the part where- oh, what's the use? _

'What do you- I mean- _what _has _that _got to do with _anything_?!' Elana hissed, trying and failing to keep her expression neutral.

'Hmmm, I don't know. I think that his opinion of you since he lifted you out of the pool the other day has gone up. Have you been talking to him?'

And then, Force help her, Elana _had _to blush. Qui-Gon had guessed, she was sure of it.

Kriffing sithspit.

'Shall we go?' Qui-Gon suggested. 'That was your last test, and I've done all the spars I was assigned to.'

Though there was nothing she wanted less than to risk Qui-Gon confronting her, Elana reluctantly agreed. As they walked along the corridor towards the Dining Hall, Qui-Gon talked about the various duels that he had done all day, outlining the ways in which each Conscript had fought. Then he told her he had seen a few of the other tests, including the course that she had come first in.

'You were really good. You must've been tired, though, you were just about toppling over. I did wave, but you didn't see me.'

'Oh yeah. Erm...'

'You looked pretty dizzy.'

'Well, yes, I...'

'And after you past Master Windu, you looked even more so. You weren't noticing anything.'

No, he was going to say it any second! 'Er... yeah, I was thinking about the course. It was quite-'

'_Just _about the course?'

Elana was now thoroughly panicking. ' Yes!' She started talking faster. 'What else would I be thinking about, what are you implying, Master Mace – '

'Caleb.' Qui-Gon cut her off, then leaned forward conspiratorially, 'Between you and me... you've got a bit of a crush on Master Mace, haven't you?'

Got it in one.

'Oh _Force_!' she moaned, burying her face in her hands to hide her burning cheeks. She was torn between giddy relief at the fact her biggest secret was safe, and total mortification that Qui-Gon had guessed her feelings. She breathed out slowly, trying to calm down.

Qui-Gon patted her back consolingly. 'Don't worry about it, Caleb. I'm sure that the other guys won't freak out _too _much.' He smiled wickedly. 'In fact, I think I'll go tell them right-'

'_Qui-Gon!_'

'Just joking, Cal. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me.' He winked.

'I am actually really annoyed with you, Qui.' Elana fumed, her embarrassment turning to annoyance. 'That was really none of your business.'

'I guess you're kind of right; I'm sorry,' Qui-Gon, surprisingly, looked a bit sincere. 'I was just teasing. Also, I was actually quite curious.'

'Okay, I believe you.' Elana decided to forgive him. After all, in his place, would she have done any different? 'But we are so changing the subject now.'

'Alright then. Er... so, what was the hardest bit of the Obstacle course?'

Elana started to explain, relieved. It was mostly so easy to talk with boys; you could just explain something simple, and not have to think of your feelings every moment of the conversation. Now that her confession was out in the open, it was – could be, if Qui-Gon kept his word – quite nice to have somebody know. The secret didn't weigh her down so much anymore.

Being a boy wasn't _so_ bad, after all.

**A/N: Sorry about there being sooo much smoosh in this story. But it's not as bad as it could be. I swear, if this story was entirely up to True Colours... well, let's not even GO there. There will be some action soon, I absolutely PROMISE! **


	10. Master Mace

**Chapter 8: Master Mace**

'But-'

'No buts, Mace.' Yoda cut him off sternly. 'Said so yourself, that Caleb Sango was the most talented the Conscripts of.'

Mace paused for a moment to translate this sentence, then realised his own words were being used against him. 'Well, yes, but - I – he hates me!' That was true. Caleb was probably sighing with relief that he would never have to see Mace Windu again. And whose fault was that? Mace's. He didn't care, but if Yoda got his way, it would make life uncomfortable for both of them. 'And I don't exactly find him easy to be with, either. Master, do I really have to – '

'Said you were ready you did,' Yoda said sternly. It was amazing how a creature who didn't reach his waist could look so uncompromising. 'If true that is, then overcome your differences you will be able to.'

'But Master...'

'Good for you, this experience will be.' Yoda spoke with finality. 'Now, go to the salle, we must.'

Annoyed and defeated, Mace followed Master Yoda out of the council chamber. First the conscripts, now _this? _

* * *

As evening fell Elana and her fellow conscripts filed into the salle. The other groups, those who had been taught by a knight other than Master Windu, were also assembling. They entered quietly and lined up in formation, column on column and row on row. Opposite them stood the Council in its entirety, Master Yoda floating on his hover chair in the middle. It was the first chance Elana had got to observe him without being scrutinised closely in return. She craned her neck, trying to see over the heads of men much taller than herself. A Gungan conscript was causing her particular trouble. However she could catch a glimpse of Yoda's face, and thought once again how much she would like to earn his approval.

Her heart jolted when she caught site of Mace, standing at the end of the row of Council members. He seemed self-conscious, head bowed and hands clasped behind his back. She thought he looked wiser and more noble than half the other Council members. She couldn't see why a man like that would have any cause to doubt himself.

Lined up behind the Council were many Jedi Knights, who seemed to be eying the Conscripts appraisingly. As she looked at them Yoda steered his hover chair higher into the air and began to speak:

'Conscripts, finished, your basic training is. Based on the results of today's trials, those who will progress to Padawan level we will now select. Through the door on your right proceed, if called your name is, and to your dormitories go, your belongings to assemble. Come to collect you, your new Masters will. The rest of you the army will join, Special Forces in. Master Ki-Adi...'

Ki-Adi Mundi stepped forwards with a datapad in his hand, and began to read off names. Elana's stomach got more uncomfortable with each calling. She knew that her name was one of the last in her planet's alphabet, but different systems used different letters, and there was no knowing how Master Mundi's list was ordered. How long did she have to wait to know if a woman could, in fact, be a Jedi, for goodness' sake? As the ranks thinned out her palms began to sweat. She noticed Yannec beside her; reassuringly he was looking about as sick as she felt. He caught her eye and smiled wanly.

Had Mace recommended her or had he not?

'Sango, Caleb!'

It was almost worse to have to turn and walk out through the other conscripts. She felt the looks of jealousy acutely, whether or not they were actually real.

'See you in the dormitory,' she mouthed at Yannec as she passed him. He nodded, not even able to muster a smile this time. Elana walked up to the dormitory feeling desolate. No more death duels for the shower and loud complaining over the food and Mace Windu's harsh treatment. Just a lot of other serious, dutiful Padawans, and Force Force Force all the time. She wasn't going to be top of the class any more, either.

In the dorm she began to disconsolately pack her things. A few other Conscripts were there, also packing. They seemed to share her mood, only nodding briefly when she entered. Elana knew that many of them were looking at saying goodbye to close friends. Maybe forever. They were Jedi now, and attachment was forbidden. Suddenly the full force of the step she had taken hit her. Of course there was nothing to stop a Jedi from leaving the order, but who knew when the war would be over, or how many lives it would claim. She had never really thought about the danger if she actually made it this far.

She was just finishing up when Yannec staggered in and collapsed onto his bed, his face pale.

'Made it!' she congratulated, trying to inject some enthusiasm into the atmosphere.

'Yeah.' He punched the air weakly. 'What a stressful way to let us know.'

'So...do you have any idea which knight you'll be assigned to?'

'No I don't, Cal.' Yannec sat up facing her. 'Do you? Does anybody? Don't you think they might have given us a bit of advance warning? A bit of a say, even? Not fucking likely in this place.'

'Damn barbaric regime,' Elana muttered. 'Maybe it's some kind of anti-attachment thing? The more we hate our Master's, the less likely we are to have inappropriate feelings for them?'

'We are ALL BOYS, Cal.'

'I meant friendship!' she exclaimed hurriedly. 'Rescuing them at bad moments and so forth!'

'No bloody appropriate feelings here,' Yannec muttered, lying down again. Elana gave a sigh of relief, her cheeks beginning to burn. How many more revealing slips was she going to make?

'Do we even get to say goodbye to the others?' Yannec demanded.

'I guess not. A clean break is best for a Jedi, I suppose.'

Would she ever see Mace again? Well, she would _see_ him, obviously, but would she ever speak to him, listen to him teach? She hadn't come here for his sake, but now that she was no longer under his command the whole exercise seemed alarmingly pointless.

* * *

Packed and ready, they all sat on the ends of their beds and waited. The problem was that they didn't know how long they had to wait, otherwise they might have settled down to talk. But as it was they were strung on high alert. Elana sat with a glazed look while her fellows sighed and fidgeted. Yannec cursed quietly at one point, but other than that nobody spoke.

Finally the door opened. They all jumped and turned as a Twi'lek with emerald-green skin entered and walked to the bed in the corner.

'You are to be my new Padawan,' he said to the boy there, before turning to smile reassuringly at the others. 'Your new Masters will all be along shortly. There is no need to look so funereal; you've all been assigned very carefully.'

Dubious comfort.

No one spoke, other than to greet the masters as they came in, and mumble goodbyes as each boy left the room. Everybody looked stressed and expectant, an identical look of relief spreading over each boy's face as he was assigned.

The room began to slowly empty around Elana, and as the number of boys fell, her panic grew. Supposing she had failed? They had called her out from the rest of the conscripts to save her humiliation, and she was going to be sent home?

Two boys left. One.

'Excuse me?' Another Knight looked around the door, then walked into the room. Elana and the other boy looked at one another, wondering who it would be. The Knight walked over to the other boy. 'You are to become my Padawan learner.' He said, identically to all the others. The boy sighed in relief, and turned to pick up his bag. He grimaced sympathetically to Elana. She forced a smile back, and shrugged.

The other Knight noticed their exchange, and spoke. 'You're Caleb Sango, right?' He asked. Elana's confusion increased; how did a random knight know her name?

'Uh, yeah.'

'Oh,' the knight gazed at her with what seemed almost like sympathy. 'Someone will be along for you in a minute.' He said enigmatically, then exited the room with his new Padawan.

Elana felt sick. What the heck was going on? She was just considering getting up and going to look for someone, when another Jedi appeared in the doorway. Could it be?

It was!

'Master Windu!' she said with barely hidden joy, standing at once. She felt euphoric. She was going to be Mace's Padawan!

'Caleb,' Mace Windu said, moving further into the room. 'You are to become my Padawan learner. Are your belongings assembled ready to be moved?'

'Yes Master.'

'Come along, then, pick them up and follow me.'

Mace strode along the corridor, his new Padawan tailing behind him. It occurred to him that he should slow down, and walk beside Caleb, but he was too full of confusion to bother. Caleb had seemed pretty nervous when Mace had come in; why was that? And what the Force were they meant to do now?

Elana followed Mace with her bags, unsure where they were going, and what would happen next. Mace hadn't let any emotions show when he had come into the room, so she wasn't even sure about that. She wondered whose decision it had been to make her his Padawan, and what motives they had had...

Elana was brought suddenly out of her reverie as Mace stopped suddenly. Unprepared, she nearly crashed into him, and he twitched visibly. She laughed nervously, trying to break some of the tension.

'Is this our apartments, Master?' she asked.

'_Are these _our apartments, Sango,' Mace corrected, opening the door. 'Yes, they are.' He paused awkwardly for a moment, and then stepped aside to let her pass.

'I don't see that it matters so much; you understand me either way.' she argued, stepping inside. The room was open-plan and divided in two, one half a carpeted area with comfortable(ish) chairs, a desk and computer, the other half a white kitchenette.

'On the contrary, accuracy is very important. A Jedi must learn precision in all things, so that it becomes habit for when he truly needs it. Let that be your first lesson.'

'Yes Master.' Elana balanced her bag against her legs and glanced around. 'Uh, where shall I put my things?'

'Actually I haven't had a chance to look around yet...they have to move you to a double apartment when you are assigned a Padawan, you see...' Mace walked to a door opening off the main room and pulled it open to peer inside. 'Well, here's one bedroom...here's – no, wait, this is just a cupboard. This is the other room. Er...which one do you want?'

'Do they have any distinguishing features? Or are they, like, completely identical?'

'Identical, I think,' Mace replied, choosing to ignore the erroneous use of the word 'like.'

'All right, I'll have that one then,' Elana decided quickly, picking up her bag. Mace pushed open the door and held it for her. She squeezed against the doorframe to avoid brushing him, stumbled over the sill, caught her foot in her bag strap and toppled headlong into the room.

Her plummet to the floor was halted as Mace flung an arm reflexively around her. He supported her easily and pulled her upright, letting go too soon. Her cheeks burned and she stared resolutely forward, mortified. I swear by the Force, he will never, ever save me again, she thought furiously.

'I will go and prepare dinner,' Mace remarked from behind her, and then left, the door sliding shut behind him.

Elana flopped backwards onto her bed, head spinning. Force, this was getting out of control. Now she was Mace's Padawan, for Kriff's sake! It was beyond spooky, and verging on Fate. _Nothing _had ever felt like this before; she felt dizzy every time she saw Mace, and found herself wondering what he was thinking half the time. Could this be more than a crush on a hot guy? Could this be... love?

***

Mace stirred the pasta he was cooking. Since he had become a Knight, he had learnt to fend pretty well for himself, though he still found cooking and similar tasks a chore. His food was edible, but not exactly amazing. He randomly wondered if Caleb could cook.

The boy hadn't seemed too unhappy about having to spend more time with Mace. But maybe that would change later on, once Caleb realised just how hard the life of a Jedi was. Mace was determined to train Caleb well; a good Padawan would be sure to help his reputation in the order, even if said Padawan was originally a Conscript. He would teach his Padawan to the best of his ability, and he could only hope that Caleb wouldn't make it too hard for him. Judging by his initial reaction, maybe it wouldn't be too hard. Mace smiled, pouring some tomato sauce into a bowl. Having a Padawan just might work to his advantage.

***

Dinner was, to say the least, interesting. Drawn by the smell of food, Elana had left her room where she had been reading (trying to take her mind off things), and gone into the main room. Mace was just taking a large pan of pasta off the heat.

'That looks good.' She said, eyeing the food appreciatively. Mace started; he hadn't noticed her, it seemed.

'Oh... thank you.' He seemed rather distant, as if he had been interrupted from some deep thought. 'One minute-' he leant over and switched off the microwave, just avoiding knocking the pasta.

Elana saw immediately that cooking didn't come naturally to her Master, and hurried forward to help. 'Here, let me-' she moved forward, and quickly drained the pasta, then spooned some into two bowls. She then took the tomato sauce from Mace and tipped some over each helping.

Her Mother had insisted she learn to cook, though it wasn't really necessary; she always maintained it was something every girl should be able to do. Elana wasn't exactly an expert, but she had always been competent. She then set the two bowls on the table.

'Thanks.' Mace said again, looking even more disconcerted than he had before. They both sat down, and in rather tense silence, began to eat. After a few minutes, Elana spoke.

'So,' she started, unable to bear the quiet anymore, 'do you cook much?'

Mace looked up, surprised.

'Um. Well, I can cook pasta and toast, but that's about it when it comes to food. You?'

Elana thought fast. 'I guess that I know how to cook okay.' She noticed her lapse in grammar too late, but decided to carry on regardless. 'We had to learn that stuff in school, and I picked up quite a bit at home.' She hoped she wasn't rambling too much. 'My mother believed that work shouldn't just be left to droids.' Elana smiled; she had managed to keep to the truth so far.

Mace looked interested now. 'So your father was Shan Sango. What was your home like?' he was clearly trying to make conversation, but he did seem quite interested. _In my father, like everyone else here, _she thought dryly. 'Do you have any siblings?'

Elana decided now was a good time to clam up. Talking about her parents could only lead to talking about how she became a Jedi, and as for siblings... well, she couldn't decide whether she had an imaginary sister or not. Either way, it could end in trouble. 'My dad works in the science part of the government.' She replied flatly, and then changed the subject. 'You probably know that I come from Alderaan. You would like it; it is a very beautiful place.' She smiled, remembering her home planet. With a rare pang of homesickness, she thought of the cultural and natural beauty that she had grown up with, that she hadn't seen for what seemed like forever...

'Do you miss it?' Elana snapped back to the present, shaking her head. Wait, what did Mace just ask her?

'Erm... what, sorry?'

'Do you miss Alderaan?' Mace slowly repeated. Elana felt suddenly idiotic, and her cheeks heated. _Just answer the question, man! – well, not man, but-_

'Well, until now, not really. But just now, I really did miss it. It is totally different from Corusant, in so many ways. Being here is like another universe; it makes you forget the old one.' Great, she had accidentally blurted out the truth. _Idiot. _

Mace stared into the middle distance, and replied slowly. 'I've been to quite a few planets, on missions and official visits, but never Alderaan. I've thought I should go several times, it is very famous.' He didn't even seem to have noticed how odd her reply had sounded. Elana looked at him, wondering – for the millionth time – what he was thinking...

Just then, Mace's comlink sounded, making him jump. 'Master Windu report to the Jedi Council Chamber immediately, for a meeting.' It was Master Plo Koon speaking, and Mace hastened to reply. 'I'm on my way, Master.'

'I will see you there, Mace.' The comlink crackled, and the transmission ended.

Mace rose out of the chair immediately, finishing his last mouthful of pasta. 'Sorry, Padawan, I have a meeting.' He pulled on his outer robe, and headed for the door. 'You can go and meet with the other Conscripts if you wish; but make sure that you are ready for an early start tomorrow morning.'

'Yes, Master.' Elana sighed, annoyed that Mace had to go so soon. 'But-'

The door had already shut.

Elana finished the last of her pasta, then cleared the table and washed up. She hoped that Mace wouldn't have meetings every day; aside from meaning she would always have to do the washing up, it didn't seem fair that she had to spend less time with him. Wasn't she meant to come first?

Having put away the last of the bowls, Elana leant against the counter, wondering what to do next. She could hang around here, playing on her datapad and learning where everything was. Or she could do as Mace had suggested, and hang out with the other conscripts. Elana pushed herself off the counter, grabbed her cloak and headed out of the apartment. It would be interesting to find out who everyone had been assigned to.

* * *

Elana stepped out into the corridor, glancing around. She had followed Mace to this area of the temple, but now she had no idea which way anything was. She was just wondering why they didn't give initiates maps, when she heard someone shout her 'name' from behind her. It was Qui-Gon.

'Hey Cal! I was just looking for you!' He greeted her. 'Listen, I was going to go hang out with the other Padawans, seeing as I have to help teach them and so on. You coming?'

'Um, sure. Why not?' Elana was glad Qui-Gon had come along at that moment. 'You'll have to tell me how to get there, though.'

'No worries – I'll be your personal tour-guide.' Qui-Gon assured her. They continued down the corridor, Qui-Gon filling Elana in on various ways to get around the Jedi temple, and wrong turnings she should watch out for.

'And you have to be careful when you're going into your apartments, all the Master-Padawan ones are in the same part of the temple, and they're identica-' Suddenly, Qui-Gon broke of, and smacked his forehead. 'Oh yeah! How could I have forgotten? You were assigned today! So, what's the verdict?' he asked eagerly.

Elana sighed. Qui-Gon was going to have a field day with this. She might as well get it over with. 'I've been assigned to Master Windu.'

The reaction was no less than she'd expected.

'Wayhayhaaaaaaayyy!' he cried, leaning right back to look at her. 'Good luck with that.' His face became deeply serious. 'I've heard he's a stickler for the _Code_, is Master Mace.'

'Stop calling him that, it's disrespectful!'

'Protective, are we? You know the role-reversal isn't meant to set in this early.'

'Stop it, Qui-Gon!'

'All right, Cal, calm down. Secret safe. Shall we go and join the others?'

'Yes.'

In the evenings the younger Padawans and her fellow Conscripts often gathered in one of the courtyards, supervised by a few senior Padawans, of whom Qui-Gon was one. Several of the trainees looked up and called greetings as they approached.

'Hi Cal, hi Qui-Gon, come and sit down.'

'So you were all assigned today?' one of the Padawans asked.

'Yes,' Yannec groaned. 'I'm with that Knight who looks like a peanut.'

'Oh no, he will have you meditating – I'm not joking – for about three hours a day. Have fun.'

'I got that guy from Naboo,'

'Oh, don't worry about him, he's not that bad.'

The questioners turned to Elana.

'What about you, Cal? Anyone good?'

She kept her voice passive as she answered, 'Master Windu.'

A sympathetic groan went round the table. 'You are NOT serious! I was so glad to think I was rid of him, and now he's your _Master_? He'll work you night and day!'

'He will,' Qui-Gon agreed gravely. 'Poor Cal. He'll never sleep again.'

Elana glared.

'Seriously,' one of the conscripts continued. 'He is never satisfied with anything.' _How was it that _everything_ sounded like an innuendo?_

'He'll have to work pretty hard to _impress_ Master Mace, won't you, Cal?' Qui-Gon said mischievously. Now fully irritated, Elana pushed him in the chest. He returned the blow – and Elana doubled over, gasping in pain.

'Dammit, _ow, _Qui-Gon!' she hissed, outraged. The other boys looked confused.

'What's with you? ' Suddenly, Elana remembered that the other boys, if they were in her situation, wouldn't feel a thing – this also had the downside that her angry push wouldn't have hurt Qui-Gon at all. She thought fast. 'Uh, I fell over sparring. My chest's pretty sore at the moment.'

The other boys shrugged, and Qui-Gon looked over at her, raising one eyebrow. 'The way things are heading, poor Caleb'll have a few more bruises before Master Mace is done with him!' The guy was insufferable.

'Master _Windu_ is a great Knight,' Elana said stiffly. 'I am proud to be his Padawan.'

'Well, I wish you luck,' Yannec sighed. 'Living in the training salle, meditating ceaselessly, and _proud_.'

***

It turned out that Yannec wasn't so far off the mark. The next morning, at no later than seven am, Elana got woken up by someone shaking her shoulder. She had just been having a dream where she and Behra had been having a sleepover, and then she'd got bombarded with popcorn. Thinking it was another attack on her person from Behra, she had hidden under the covers, mumbling 'go away, Behra!' as she did so. Then, she had remembered where exactly she was, and shot upright, to see an irate Master standing over her.

'Sorry!' she yelped, leaping from her bed.

'Get yourself up _now, _Sango,' he barked, quickly leaving the room. Cheeks burning, though there was mercifully no one to witness, she had hurriedly pulled on some robes, and headed for the kitchen.

Mace power-walked down the corridor with Elana jogging to keep up.

'Where are we going?' she said to the back of his head. He slowed a little, allowing her to walk beside him.

'To the salle, Caleb.' They went down a maze of corridors – Elana trying to memorise each turning for future reference – and eventually reached the salle. Elana was disoriented for a moment; the passage opened into the opposite end of the salle than she was used to, but then

'Now, as yet you do not have a lightsaber of your own...' Mace said musingly, pulling off his outer robe. Under it he was wearing the normal Jedi tunic and long-sleeved shirt. So how come he looked so amazing?

'Caleb?'

'Oh! Er, sorry. I have my father's training lightsaber; the first one he constructed,' Elana ventured, trying not to be too distracted.

'Let me see it.'

Quickly Elana fumbled in her robes and pulled out the silver cylinder. She had brought it, in the hope that today, she would finally get to use it.

The weapon was an unremarkable, a little scratched, but serviceable enough by her father's account. She handed it to Mace, holding it at the extreme end to avoid brushing his fingers. He turned it in his hands, holding it with surprising delicacy and precision, and then pressed the round button in the side. The frosty green blade leapt out with a hum of energy. Mace held it up, examining it carefully, then threw it in a spinning blur into the air, higher than she would have thought possible. She caught her breath as it came whipping down, but Mace caught it harmlessly by the hilt. He extinguished the blade and handed it back to her, nodding in approval.

'This will do very well to begin with,' he approved, 'though of course we cannot spar with cutting blades; the risk of injury is too great.' He walked to where the poles were stacked and fetched two, one for himself and one for her.

'I intend to train you primarily in form II of lightsaber combat,' he said as he walked. 'Of all the forms it is most like the sporting fencing you will have learnt. Everything depends on precision and balance. Properly used, the form allows you to conserve your energy and let your opponent tire himself. It is a good choice –'

'For those not greatly endowed with strength?' Elana suggested.

'Yes,' Mace said bluntly. 'I will also teach you the basis of form III, which will allow you to defend against blaster fire, and as you advance we will incorporate elements of form IV. Form IV duellists draw heavily on the Force to perform various acrobatics, so you will need to become more familiar with the Force before you attempt it.'

'Uh...OK,' Elana said, and then paused. 'A Padawan – Qui-Gon Jinn – told me that Jedi normally learn form I first, to give them a grasp of the weapon, and then form VI, to show what their strengths are, and then move into the more specialised forms –'

'I believe I already have a good assessment of your strengths,' Mace cut her off, 'and I believe form II plays to them. Form VI is a versatile form of combat, but the other forms I am incorporating will give you a broad enough range of skills. It is unorthodox, but we don't have much time.' Mace had told only half the truth. He thought the boy would probably do well in the regime he had suggested, but he also didn't want to waste time teaching form IV when he might be able to move straight on to more specialised training. If Caleb had been keen on fencing he would probably find it easy to master the basics of form II. A Padawan fully trained in a specialised form would boost his credentials with the Council no end. Now he raised his pole to indicate that the discussion was over.

'Here is the opening stance of form II...'

Elana was amazed by how comforting it was to step into a familiar stance. Here, finally, was something she could do. It was definitely more strenuous than fencing, a method of fighting rather than a sport, but not nearly as bad as what she'd been trying to achieve these past few weeks. As she grasped stance after stance she saw Mace's hard expression colour with approval.

He moved with control through each motion, but she thought he looked awkward, as though there was simply too much strength to be contained by the delicate, minimal motions.

'Master?' she asked when they seemed to be done.

'Yes Caleb?'

'What...what form do you use?'

He flashed her a quick grin. 'I'm not the best person to be teaching you form II, really,' he said. 'I don't know what the Council were thinking...' he stopped, as though deciding that this was not a subject to broach now. 'I use forms VI and VI,' he changed the subject, 'but I don't find that either suits me perfectly. I am attempting to develop another form.' He looked slightly proud of this, and Elana wondered how great an accomplishment this would be, if he managed it. Enough to earn him plenty of favour with the council, anyway.

'So that would be... Form VII?' she asked.

Mace looked somehow pleased by this, but a little surprised, too. 'Yes, I suppose so.' He seemed to snap back into action, and he took up his pole again, moving into the second form II position. 'But it's a work in progress, and we should be working on _your _training.'

And so they did; and by midday Elana was totally tired out.

'Better,' Mace conceded, after what seemed like her millionth attempt at an initial attack sequence. 'Now you may go and eat. After lunch, you will be meditating.'

'Yes Master,' Elana bowed her head and left the salle, suppressing a yawn. She wondered if the other boys were having such a rough time, or if it was just Mace. _Probably the latter._

But still. In her opinion, it was worth it.


	11. Semolina, Innuendos And Important News

**Chapter 9**

A week later, her opinion was dangerously close to changing. She was sick of meditation and so covered in bruises that she could hardly sit down.

'Cover your left side, Sango!' Mace barked, advancing towards her with his weapon poised to attack. They were fighting with harmless training blades, and a display box with a buzzer was recording their hits. Elana moved a half-step and winced._ Harmlessness_ was all relative.

Mace lunged forwards and she leapt to the side, her legs protesting at the strain. Mace's style was eclectic and extremely aggressive, and she was supposed to be using the minimal, precise strokes of form II to fend him off with minimum effort. But with his blade seeming to come at her from all sides, it was all too easy to start flailing around.

'Come on, Sango, _think_,' Mace ordered as she barely blocked his attack with a too-wide swipe of her lightsaber.

'I know what I'm doing wrong –' she said through gritted teeth.

'Then correct it.'

A hot spurt of anger flared up inside her and she sprang forward, hitting him on the back of the neck. It didn't actually register a hit on their box, but it was a good attack for creating an opening. Mace yelled: 'ow!' and adopted a defensive position, but she'd underestimated the force of her own attack. The blade rebounded backwards, and before she could bring it round for another hit Mace stabbed her in the stomach, doubling her up with pain.

'Anger is a path to the dark side,' he said sternly, rubbing the back of his neck. 'If you had been thinking instead of being intent on causing me as much pain as possible, you wouldn't have struck so hard and lost control.'

'_Yes_, Master.'

They were not alone in the salle. Several other Padawans were training as well, and Qui-Gon was sparring with his Master alongside them. Elana was surprised by the amount of sympathy she could sense from him. Several times she felt his quickly-restrained impulse to come wading in to her defence, but there was nothing he could really do. All the same, the knowledge that she had a good friend helped her to calm down, and she felt more focussed as she struck the opening stance once again, flicking her hair out of her eyes as she did so. It was getting a little too long. She should probably cut it soon.

She managed to make several hits during their next bout, though she suspected Mace was lowering his game to a level just hard enough to challenge her. Still, it was probably for the best. How was she supposed to learn if he kept wiping the floor with her in two seconds flat? She was hampered by her hair, having to constantly twitch her head to get it out of her eyes. If they kept this up much longer she would have sweated enough to stick her fringe back. It was a rather dim bright side, to put it mildly.

Finally Mace stopped to give her a breather. 'Remember, keep your strokes neat and precise,' he said. 'Form II is all about tiring your opponent; these wide strokes you're using are counterproductive. However, when the situation calls for something more aggressive...' She stood and nodded at intervals. Finally Mace stepped away from her and said:

'We will try a slow bout.'

Elana raised her lightsaber, pushing her hair back as she did so. Mace gave an irritable twitch at the movement and then burst out:

'Stop flicking your hair out of your eyes!'

'If I don't flick it out of my eyes,' Elana said in measured tones, 'I _can't see_.'

'A Jedi does not need to see. He uses the Force.'

Elana looked pointedly at Mace's head and the words just slipped out:

'Easy enough for you to say.'

'Don't be cheeky!' Mace spluttered while Qui-Gon and several other Padawans stopped to snigger.

'I think I'll cut it,' Elana tried to say reasonably. Mace glared at her.

'You do that.'

The various training sessions had broken up to form a loose circle around them. Now Master Dooku laid a hand on Mace's shoulder and announced:

'I think we could all use a break.' Elana could see that he was calling Mace off; as she watched, he smiled slightly at her and drew Mace away by the elbow. After a moment Mace relaxed, allowing himself to be drawn into the group. They all left the salle together; Elana, glancing nervously at Mace, saw that he now looked more amused than angry.

Dooku was walking on Mace's other side, and he seemed eager to draw her Master into conversation.

'Qui-Gon and I will join the other Padawans, if we may,' she said, offering to leave them to it.

'Yes, Caleb,' Mace said distractedly. 'I will meet you in the canteen, Jard,' he said to Dooku. 'I want to shower first.

'I will see you there,' Dooku replied in his deep, rolling voice. 'Come, Padawan.' He placed his hand on Qui-Gon's shoulder and steered him off down the corridor. Elana watched them for a moment. There was something about the way Qui-Gon and his Master seemed joined at the hip that she didn't like. After studying her feelings for a moment, she concluded that she was jealous. She was just about to catch them up when she felt Mace catch hold of her shoulder, drawing her back. All the other Masters and Padawans were making their way down the corridor, leaving the two of them alone.

'You have done very well today Padawan,' Mace said quietly. 'I am being hard on you because I believe that you have true potential, and little time, compared to one selected at birth, to fulfil it. But do not doubt that you are meeting the Council's expectations. It is my aim to make you exceed them.'

Elana paused for a moment; this was unexpected. 'Thank you, Master,' she said at last, bowing her head respectfully. 'I...didn't mean it about the hair,' she ventured.

Mace smiled swiftly. 'I think I can let that one go, Padawan,' he said in a tone of dismissal. She was turning to go, but suddenly he reached out and turned her face back towards him, tilting her chin upwards.

'Caleb,' he said, frowning, 'what colour are your eyes?'

'I...they're, uh...' she was caught, staring into his face. His fingers seemed to be leaving scorch-marks on her skin. It was almost impossible to form a coherent sentence.

'They...change,' she managed.

'Change?'

'With the weather.' She could feel the babbling instinct coming on. 'They go darker in stormier weather, like today, you know, when the air pressure drops? High pressure makes them go –'

'Hazel?' Mace suggested. Two of his fingers were still resting under her chin, and his voice sounded strangely absent.

'Yeah,' she gasped.

'I thought so.' Finally he released her, frowning slightly. She backed away a few paces, then turned and walked briskly off down the corridor.

Almost immediately Qui-Gon became visible, leaning against the wall and smirking faintly. Of all the times to have a friend who waited back for her.

'Don't. Say. Anything,' she said before he could speak, putting a hand on his shoulder and beginning to push him down the corridor. He obviously hadn't expected her to take such a decisive course of action, and remained mercifully silent for about thirty seconds. Then he said:

'So, that was some lesson. Still proud to be Master Mace's Padawan?'

'Hnnnnuuuurkk,' Elana said non-commitally.

'Cause you look pretty bruised to me, Caleb.'

'Look,' she said as they entered the canteen, 'you are a Jedi. But the thing about most beings is that they are _not_ rational. Yes, may the Force help me, I am still proud to be Mace Windu's Padawan.'

'Mmm, you did look like you weren't minding much two minutes ago. Proud isn't quite how I'd put it but...'

'Just shut up, Qui-Gon,' she said, flopping down at an empty table with her back to the rest of the room. Qui-Gon slid into the seat opposite her and leaned back against the wall, smirking.

Elana shot him a ferocious glare and dug into her food. Qui-Gon took the hint and sat up a little straighter, losing the grin.

'Master Dooku thinks that there will probably be a battle before too long,' he said.

'Did he say anything about Alderaan?'

'Only that they seem to be keeping out of trouble; no worries for you there.'

'I just wish I knew _when_ something's going to happen...'

'Bestine. Master mentioned that our informants have seen troops gathering on Bestine.'

'So that'll be it then,' Elana whispered. '...Qui-Gon, is Master Dooku supposed to tell you all this?'

'I'm his Padawan,' Qui-Gon said evasively. 'Aren't you worried? The Conscripts will have to fight, you know.'

'Not really, I'm just sick of sitting around here getting battered by Master Windu. He barely speaks to me, you know. Outside of training I mean.'

'Ah well,' Qui-Gon said with mock seriousness. 'I'm sure you'll be seeing some...action soon.'

If looks could kill Qui-Gon would have been very dead, but Elana was nowhere close to mastering the Force-choke, and so Qui-Gon, fully aware of her intentions, just sat smiling blithely at her.

'Don't think I don't know what you're getting at you sneaky –'

'Calm _down_, Cal, people will start to suspect.'

'Not if you don't keep _raising the subject_...'

'I don't know why you don't just talk to him, Cal,' Qui-Gon said sorrowfully.

'What, as in tell him my feelings?'

'No, but you say he barely ever talks to you...so you need to talk to him. Make your needs clear and –'

'Qui-Gon!'

'I mean, you don't even sit with him? How is he supposed to know that you need his love and support?'

'You aren't sitting with your Master either.'

'No, because I'm sitting with you, and you're avoiding your Master.'

'I am not avoiding him.'

'Then go and speak to him.'

'What would be the point?'

'Oh, _I_ don't know,' Qui-Gon replied. 'This is your call, Caleb.'

'You are deliberately trying to turn me to the dark side.'

Qui-Gon grinned evilly, taking up a fork and spinning it. Suddenly, he leant his elbow on the prongs of his fork, catapulting it into the air. It spun in a wide, Elana suspected Force-assisted arc across the canteen, tinkling to the floor behind Mace He didn't even notice; he was deep in conversation with Dooku.

'Oh,' Qui-Gon intoned. '_Clumsy me_. I seem to have dropped my fork over by Mace Windu's table. Caleb, go and pick it up for me, would you?'

Elana glowered. 'No. Get your own fork.'

'But I think you would do it so much _better_ than me, Cal,' Qui-Gon said earnestly.

'I'll show you how much better I can pick it up,' Elana snarled. Using the Force, she captured the fork and brought it hurtling back across the room. It rammed into the wall and stuck, quivering ominously, a few inches from Qui-Gon's face.

As they glared at each other across the table Yannec's voice was heard across the canteen. Both their eyes flicked towards the group of approaching conscripts. Elana tugged the fork out of the wall and pointed it at Qui-Gon's face.

'I'm warning you,' she said quietly, leaning in across the table, 'one word...' she gestured sharply with the fork.

* * *

Across the canteen, Dooku watched the face-off with a mixture of trepidation and amusement. Nodding to Mace, he gestured toward them.

'Mace, your Padawan appears to be threatening mine with a fork,' he commented.

Mace looked surprised, and turned in his seat to see that this was indeed true. As a crowd of chattering conscripts blocked his view of the table, he turned around, shrugged and continued eating. He was secretly quite pleased that the boy finally showing some backbone.

'So he is.'

Dooku also continued to eat. After all, how much trouble could he get in?

* * *

'Chill, Cal, secret safe,' Qui-Gon returned. 'But is your head?'

'Whatever.'

Just then, Yannec and the other conscripts sat down at their table.

'Hi, Cal, Qui-Gon. Mind if we sit with you?'

The loudly talking boys descended onto their food, oblivious to the infuriation emanating from Elana.

'This is disgusting,' moaned one boy, poking at the bowl of semolina in front of him. 'It's, like, alive.'

'Well, you shouldn't have chosen it, so stop moaning.'

'Ugh.' The offending semolina was shoved into the middle of the table.

Both Qui-Gon and Elana had immersed themselves in conversations, and it seemed that Qui-Gon's threat had been forgotten. Elana kept half an eye attuned to Qui-Gon, thankful for her ability to multi-task. It was probably just an empty threat, but it wouldn't do any harm to be prep –

Then, time seemed to slow down. She felt a precognition a second before the reality, and slammed herself down onto the table, a split second before...

Qui-Gon threw the semolina at her head.

The bowl shot across the room, too fast to be dodged by anyone who hadn't been expecting it. It flew past a group of Padawans, just missed Dooku, and then hit

Mace

In the back

Of the head.

A room never went from noisy to totally silent so fast. Qui-Gon, his face frozen in horror, still had one hand still up in an incriminating posture. Elana was still flat on the table; after feeling the disturbance in the Force, she had been wondering who it had it. Maybe Ki-Adi, or Yoda, or-

'**JINN!!!'**

_OhmiForce! _

_Qui-Gon was so_ _dead. _

* * *

Their walk back from the canteen was extremely silent. Elana kept her head down, hardly daring to breathe, longing for her old curtain of hair to swing protectively over her face. Mace walked swiftly beside her, black silence wrapping around him like a cloak. But every time she risked a glance at him she was reminded of that golden instant when, without thinking of the consequences, she had seen him, face frozen in shock, with the semolina trickling between his eyebrows...

'Stop laughing at me!' Mace said.

'I'm not, I'm not!' Elana cried, spreading her hands in supplication. Mace gave an exasperated sigh.

'I _know_ you are not actually laughing, Caleb. I _know _that outwardly you are cowering with terror. But internally you are laughing, I can tell.'

'You shouldn't have shouted so loudly,' Elana said, determined not to actually admit to finding it funny.

'I know,' Mace sighed, running a hand over his scalp. 'Anger is my weakness, Caleb. That is why I am attempting to create this new lightsaber form; it allows one to vent one's emotions without being consumed by them. Be mindful of your feelings, always.'

'Yes Master.'

'For a start you can stop this internal sniggering!'

'Master, you _have_ to admit it was funny.'

'It was not funny. It was the single most humiliating night of my life.' Elana's jaw dropped. Mace was actually sounding almost like Behra.

'But...only by grasping all aspects of a situation can a Jedi hope to judge fairly,' she said tentatively. 'Surely you must see the funny side.'

Mace sighed again, this time in resignation. 'I see,' he said, 'that, had I been in your position, I would have found it funny. Though when I was your age I had a little more respect!'

'I'm sorry, Master.'

'I forgive you. Just _don't_ mention it again.'

'I will save it for parties, Master.'

'I look forward to it,' Mace said sardonically, opening the door to their apartment. He vanished immediately into the bathroom, already shrugging off his stained outer robe. Elana leaned in the doorway for a moment, bubbling with happiness. For all the awkwardness of the situation, Mace had never connected with her like that before. Maybe it would do him good to be robbed of all dignity more often.

* * *

Elana woke early the next morning. She was mildly irritated at being deprived of her sleep, but it was a relief not to be poked awake by a perpetually irate Mace for once. She decided she would go and have breakfast in the canteen instead of waiting for him to wake up and being indoctrinated over unsugared porridge. The sight of anything of about that consistency probably wouldn't improve her Master's mood, either.

The canteen was empty when she entered, but sounds were coming from the kitchen hatch at the far end. She leaned in and saw Qui-Gon, standing at a counter industriously peeling potatoes.

'Morning Cal,' he grunted, in a tone that said: _don't say anything_.

'Morning, Qui-Gon,' she smiled. 'You look like you're having fun.'

'Could have been worse,' Qui-Gon agreed briskly, dumping a pile of peeled potatoes into a pan of water on the stove.

'Anything ready for breakfast yet?'

' 'fraid not.'

'Ah well.' Elana mooched out of the canteen, heading for the salle where she had forgotten her training blade yesterday. While she was there she practised a few Force-assisted leaps. Mace didn't know how far she'd come on with those. She might be able to score a hit on him today, if she was lucky. Score? Hit? Damn Qui-Gon, she couldn't even think these things in the privacy of her own head anymore!

She returned to the canteen about ten minutes later. A couple of people were arriving now. She walked back into the kitchen and found Qui-Gon slumped in a chair, attempting to peel a potato using the Force. He wasn't making much progress. First the peeler gouged deeply into the potato, taking away a chunk of edible material along with the peel, then it clattered uselessly against the skin, then missed entirely. It had just got stuck half-way through a stroke when Elana entered the kitchen and remarked:

'There has got to be a quicker way to do this, Qui.'

'Huh. You try it then.' Qui-Gon gave the stuck peeler an over-zealous Force-tug and it shot out of the potato and skimmed lethally past Elana's nose. She caught it and aimed it at the potato, her tongue between her teeth. She had nearly got it, but then Qui-Gon broke her concentration by laughing.

'You're going cross-eyed, Cal,' he sniggered. Elana crossed her eyes properly at him and then reapplied herself to the potato. Soon the two of them were falling about laughing at each others' attempts to manipulate the peeler with the Force. As Elana took another unsuccessful swipe Dooku leaned in through the hatch, spreading his long, elegant hands across the sill.

'It seems lunch will be late today,' he observed gravely. Elana bowed her head, instantly contrite, but Qui-Gon said:

'We were practising our Force-skills, Master. I think Caleb could benefit from a little instruction.'

Elana felt instantly ganged-up on, but she forced a smile to her face and nodded. With a smooth motion of his hands Dooku moved the peeler in a perfect sweep across the potato. It was peeled in half the time it would have taken Qui-Gon by hand.

The job done, Dooku leaned against the hatch once again. His smile slowly faded to a grave expression and he said:

'I am sorry to have to tell you this, Padawans, but the Council have decided to begin moving troops to Bestine.'

'You mean there's going to be fighting?' Elana asked, shooting to the hatch to address him properly.

'Yes, I'm afraid so, Caleb, and it is very likely that you will be involved in it.'

'That's...what I signed up for,' Elana said with an unconvincing smile.

Qui-Gon was suddenly at her shoulder.

'We'll be going too, won't we Master?' he asked, his voice urgent.

'I am going to be leading an aerial command station, but I'm leaving you here this time, Padawan. The Council suggested that this would be a good time for you to receive some rudimentary tuition from the Healers. It will be a very useful experience for you.'

'But you won't be actually on the ground?'

'No. You needn't worry, I will be quite safe.'

Elana caught Qui-Gon glancing at her anxiously and felt that Dooku had missed the point.

'Anyway, Qui,' she said, nudging him back on to lighter subjects, 'you really need to get a move on with these potatoes if you don't want to miss breakfast.'

'Oh, er, right,' Qui-Gon said, looking round at the teetering pile on the bench.

Elana was chatting with Qui-Gon and swigging a mug of caff and Dooku was starting into the potatoes with the Force when Mace appeared in the door of the canteen. Elana guessed from the way he kept glancing around that he was searching for her. He caught sight of them and gave her and Dooku a wounded look. Elana supposed that he was annoyed with them for helping Qui-Gon; standing around chatting while your Master did the work didn't exactly count as a punishment.

'Ah, good morning Mace,' Dooku said smoothly, abandoning the potatoes as though he had never touched them. Elana waited while the two men exchanged small talk, and then Mace steered her out of the canteen.

'You seem subdued, Padawan?' he asked.

'I'm just a little worried, I suppose. About the battle on Bestine. Is it true that the Conscripts are going to be involved?'

'Wait.' Mace stopped walking and turned to face her. 'How do you know about that? The Council were only just informed!'

'I, uh,' Elana ducked her head, searching for a way out. 'Master Dooku told us just now.'

Mace looked at her for a moment, then turned without a word and continued walking. Elana hurried to catch up.

'Master?' she called. 'I...there's no harm in his telling us, is there?'

'That is the way rumours and here-say spread, Caleb. That is the way secrets leak out.' Elana was surprised by the hardness in his voice. She thought she might be pushing her luck, but she had to ask:

'But Master, I thought Master Dooku was your friend? Do you disapprove of him?'

'I do not approve of the way Jard Dooku trains his Padawan, Caleb,' Mace said, breathing out heavily through his nose. 'He treats young Qui-Gon as an equal rather than a pupil; he is always encouraging him to air his own views, rather than instructing him in the ways of the Jedi. Qui-Gon is not ready for such freedom. He is far too outspoken for his own good.'

'I don't see why he shouldn't be allowed an opinion.'

'An opinion, yes, but the life of a Jedi is hard. Character flaws that are not curbed now will only cause trouble for Qui-Gon and all those around him later. Look at him already, throwing bowls of heaven-knows-what around the canteen.'

'He wasn't _aiming_ for you, Master...'

'He should not have thrown it _at all_, Caleb.'

She couldn't argue with that.

* * *

She trained well that day, getting in several good hits and managing some successful Force-assisted leaps. Mace even gave her a smile and a nod as they packed away. That evening the battle on Bestine was announced officially, and they were told that each Master of a Conscript would be in command of a backup army unit. The Conscripts would have secondary command under their Masters.

'You mean I'm in charge of a frickin' unit?' Elana screeched.

'Language,' Mace said. 'Yes, _we_ will be in charge of a unit. Backup, so we probably won't see much action.'

'Damn Qui-Gon,' Elana murmured, turning to walk back to their apartment.

'Caleb.'

She looked around sharply. Mace was watching her closely, and for all his calm assurances she saw veiled worry in his eyes.

'Don't get into trouble, will you?' he said.

'Master, it's a war zone. How am I going to avoid getting into trouble?'

'And don't get lippy either.'

_Damn _Qui-Gon.


	12. Bestine

Chapter 10

Elana's ears throbbed as the small transport descended through the upper atmosphere of Bestine, carrying five Master-Padawan pairs to meet their units of soldiers. Bestine was a heavy planet, and she could feel its gravity beginning to weigh her down.

Nobody was steering inside the craft; it was controlled from the co-ordination satellite that Count Dooku was manning. His figure appeared, small and blue, on the hologram projector at the front of the transport, and began to speak.

'Jedi, prepare for docking in seventeen standard minutes. The synthesisers are changing the cabin pressure to prepare you for the high atmospheric pressure.'

_It still hurts, _Elana thought irritably, as her eardrums strained. His rich, deep voice was not helping her mood, and it tended to make her think of Mace's rich, deep voice...

'Caleb!' Mace called from the front of the craft. 'What's the weather like?'

'Master, we are still in the upper atmosphere of the planet, inside a pressurised cabin,' she replied, rolling her eyes for the benefit of the other Conscripts. 'My eyes are not that clever.'

Mace turned back to the front with a slight jerk of his head to acknowledge her words. Elana shut her eyes and focussed on ignoring the throbbing in her ears. After a few minutes it did start to ease up. The gravity wasn't that much higher than on Earth; nothing that a Force-sensitive couldn't handle, but Elana wondered what it would be like for the ordinary soldiers. A few movements felt like swimming a couple of feet underwater, but walking for hours, and trying to do battle...it would be exhausting. Then there was the fact that the planetary surface was only five percent land, with most of that made up of marshes and islands only a few miles long. Elana dredged up a fact from the briefing lecture: the largest land mass on the entire planet was only fifty miles across. It was not going to be easy to wage a war here.

'Docking in five minutes...'

'Oh shut up,' she muttered. Yannec caught her eye and grinned. Elana felt a spurt of warmth. Out here, with Qui-Gon light years away at the temple and Behra a memory from another life, he was probably the best friend she had.

With incredible smoothness the ship slid into its docking bay. Elana could see mist pressing in on the windows. The whole landing site was as small as it could be, barely encroaching on the surrounding wilderness to make it inconspicuous. When they disembarked, the tarmac lasted only a few feet, and the solid ground not much longer after that before water started welling around her feet. A couple of soldiers ran forward to meet them.

'Water-bikes are in the warehouse at the back,' one of them said. 'Go and kit yourselves out. I'll fetch out the troops.'

* * *

Mace pulled two of the heavy bikes down from their racks, and then looked around for his Padawan.

'Caleb!' he yelled. 'Seriously. Weather forecast!'

Caleb grumblingly detached himself from his friends and came over to Mace.

'It would never do, you know,' Mace said with mock-seriousness as he glanced toward Caleb, 'For us to be caught unawares in a storm or-' He stopped suddenly.

What the Force had happened to the boy's eyes? Instead of the normal hazel or brown, Caleb's eyes were a bright, leaf green, with orange and gold flecks. 'Are you feeling alright, Padawan? Your eyes are a funny colour!' Mace realised how strange his words must have sounded; Caleb was looking at him very oddly.

'Errrm... er...' Just then, one of the bikes fell over behind them, causing an enormous clatter. Caleb turned, disentangled the machines, and then turned back to Mace, seeming to have come back down to earth.

'Um, I expect it's because of the high pressure here, master. They're going, like, off the charts. Or something.' Caleb was clearly uncomfortable for some reason, and seemed eager to get the subject off his eyes. 'So, we'd better help unpack those water-speeders, guys...'

'So, no weather,' Mace said, hauling another bike down.

'Nope, but it looks set foggy to me,' Caleb replied. Mace waved a hand through the air, feeling water droplets condense on his skin, and decided that his Padawan was probably right.

* * *

Elana dragged her bike to a metal slipway and pushed it down into the water. It splashed and rocked for a few seconds. She clambered aboard tentatively, praying that the whole thing wouldn't roll over and deposit her in the water. That had been bad enough last time.

Once astride the bike she twisted the throttle and felt it roar into life. She made an experimental pass or two through the water, and then noticed a line of men at the shore mounting similar vehicles. This must be her unit. They were obviously practised on bikes, balancing effortlessly on the water as it churned with her wake, and they eyed her doubtfully. Of course, they wouldn't be used to Jedi, or even convinced of the power of the Force.

She turned the bike and rode towards them, mouth dry, but suddenly there was a roar and a splashing of water behind.

'Padawan!'

Elana turned her bike just in time to see Mace swerve around the edge of the island, and brake sharply to a stop next to her, spraying foam everywhere.

'Show-off,' Elana muttered.

'There's a time and a place for everything, and that was the time for showing off,' Mace said quietly. He seemed in a much better mood now that they were finally getting some action; from the first time she had seen him, Elana had known that Mace was just as much a fighter as a Jedi. It seemed that their soldiers could see it too. Definite approval coloured their expressions now.

'As you know,' Mace announced, 'we are a backup unit and do not expect to be in the thick of the action, but that doesn't mean we can get complacent. We are going to be heading out about five miles to an island base, to wait for further instructions. Bases like these surround the area where the battle is going to take place. It is our job to prevent the enemy from retreating or calling in reinforcements, should the need arise. Which it shouldn't, but as I said, not a job to get complacent in. Now, let's move out.'

The men formed an arrowhead formation behind Elana and Mace, and they headed due North away from the islet. Ten minutes and a lot of foam later, Elana saw a glimpse of what looked like land on the horizon.

'We're heading for the Eastern side of the island,' Mace shouted over the roar of the bikes. The unit slowed down, steering carefully past the head of the island, and a few minutes later, a long pebbled beach came out of the fog toward them.

'There,' Mace called. They stopped their bikes when the water was just a few inches deep, dismounted and then pulled the machines, so graceful on the water but unwieldy on land, up the beach. Elana swung herself off gladly, thanking the Force that she hadn't capsized at any point. She lugged her heavy bike up the beach, and balanced it next to Mace's. Then she headed down the beach to where the men were congregating around Mace – or their Commander, as they called him – for further instruction.

'So,' started Mace, 'Now we have to wait here for further communication. If we're needed, we will receive a message from the orbiting satellite. Until then, we just have to stay here, be ready for action, and if any enemy activity is seen, report it immediately. All clear?'

'Yes, Commander!' chorused the men. Elana resisted the urge to laugh; she was strongly reminded their first day of training. It was peculiar that it had been so gruelling at the time, but now, looking back on it, it seemed funny. Well, she would probably laugh about all this one day, telling her war stories to friends...

If she wasn't blasted, of course. But she was just a back-up unit. What was the worst that could happen?

'Caleb?' Elana snapped out of her reverie to find Mace standing next to her, looking brisk.

'You should help the men set out the fire and sleeping area, Padawan. I'm going to organise watches.'

'Very good, Master,' Elana stood rigidly to attention, and mock-saluted.

'Very funny, Padawan.' Mace said sarcastically; but half-smiled all the same.

'Seriously, though. This entire soldier thing comes quite naturally to you doesn't it?' Elana commented.

'These soldiers are trained to take firm orders. Unlike some conscripts I could mention. When you initiates first came, all you did was moan, if you remember.' Though Mace spoke seriously, there was a teasing light in his eyes. _Force, is Mace actually developing a sense of humour?!_

'Ah yes, how could I forget being kicked around an assault course?' Mace didn't know how true her words were; she wouldn't ever forget any second she spent in his company...

'Point taken, Padawan. Go and familiarise yourself with the base; get some work done; it's important that the soldiers learn to respect you too. I must go and...' Mace was already drifting away, she didn't hear what he had to 'go and' do. Elana fought back a sudden wave of melancholy. Whenever she thought she was connecting with her Master, he pushed her away again, and once again she felt a sense that he was pushing her to do as well as possible without actually caring about her. She thought of Dooku, leading Qui-Gon down the corridor with a hand on his shoulder, their heads bent together. When she saw the sight she was irritated, but maybe that was just because she was jealous deep down. Jealous of the fact that Dooku really seemed to care about his Padawan.

For the rest of the day she busied herself with the tasks of setting up camp, which were tiring and kept her from thinking too much. The soldiers regarded her with a mix of scepticism and awe, but became much more relaxed when she talked friendlily to them and helped out with the work. She threw in a few Force-tricks to get rid of the scepticism. By evening, as they ate a meal heated over a gas stove, the men's morale was running high. They seemed convinced that with Mace and herself and their incredible Force powers, nothing could go seriously wrong.

Elana shivered. Her back, facing away from the stove, was cold. She was on watch for the first couple of hours, and walked up and down, trying to keep warm. Stars slowly began to prick through the fog. Elana gazed up at them, sucking in lungfuls of the cool air that was getting drier as the wind picked up. On Corusant she had forgotten how many there were, blotted out by the smog and city lights. Millions of stars, millions of systems, stretching on for a hundred thousand lightyears.

'Get some sleep, Padawan,' Mace said. Nothing else. Elana struggled into her sleeping bag as quickly as she could. It would be very easy to get cold on this tiny spit of waterlogged land. She lay on the uneven ground and stared at Mace. His comlink crackled, lighting his face blue from below, and words rapped through the speaker.

'We're all right here, Master Koon,' Mace said quietly. '...nothing so far... I expect the dawn will show things more clearly... I know...'

_Mace_, she thought. _If you're worried,_ _talk to me_.

Despite the cold, she drifted off.

* * *

So now dinner was over, everyone was either asleep or settled into their watch, and there was nothing to do but wait for morning. Mace paced slowly around the perimeter of the camp, probing the surrounding space with his mind. He should not be bored, he knew, but he couldn't help it. Caleb seemed to look up to him as the perfect example of a Jedi, but in truth Mace was frustrated with himself. Another watching soldier passed him, and he paused for a few seconds' conversation, as a good commander should, to relieve the monotony of watching and waiting for nothing. It was very dark now – Bestine had no moon – and very cold, with an almost imperceptible but persistent breeze off the sea. He stamped briskly up and down, working up a core of heat inside, his hands up his sleeves. He bit back a curse as he stumbled over a tussock of grass. What wouldn't he give for a convenient lump of rock in space to throw back the light! Of course, he should have sensed that tussock with the Force. Mace closed his eyes, feeling his way by Force alone, trying to focus.

He left his path round the perimeter and drifted in to where his Padawan lay. Caleb had managed to get to sleep, but he was curled up and shivering, his shoulders hunched. He looked too small and frail for the setting, and Mace felt a sudden qualm. What if something should go wrong, and they were plunged into the heart of the battle? _They shouldn't send half-trained teenagers out to do this kind of work_, he thought angrily. _Where is our so-called ethical regime now?_ Caleb gave another gasping shiver, his fingers clenching on the edge of his blanket. Oh well, Mace thought, he was keeping warm walking anyway. He shrugged off his heavy outer robe and swung it into the breeze to spread it out before laying it over his Padawan, tucking it in at the edges to keep the wind out. If Caleb didn't get a good night's sleep he would be no use for anything in the morning. He was now aware of the cold on the back of his own neck, but it felt more energising than uncomfortable. He stretched his arms up above his head, flexing his muscles, then suddenly remembered the other soldiers and felt foolish. Had any of them noticed him fussing over his Padawan? It wouldn't do for them to think that the Jedi were surrogate mothers who spent all their time mollycoddling their apprentices.

'All quiet, sentry?' he called to the man approaching him, starting to walk again.

'Seems so, sir.' Their voices snapped in the keen air. Mace rubbed his arms and kept walking, waiting for the sun to rise.

* * *

Elana awoke to find the sun stabbing into her eyes and her limbs heavy with too much gravity. All the signs of a bad night on rough ground were there: stiff shoulders, slight headache, twinges in the teeth. She rolled over and saw that the sun was barely above the horizon. Of course out in the open you were up with the dawn, there was no alternative. As she turned rough fabric scraped her chin, and she stilled in surprise. She was much warmer than she should be given the temperature of the air on her face. She looked down and saw a Jedi robe covering her. It had to be Mace's; no-one else in camp wore such a garment, and everything about it reminded her of him. It was much too big for her, large enough to cover his broad-shouldered frame, and she fancied that a little residual heat still clung about it. Mace was warm, even if it was sometimes with hot anger. She imagined him walking over to check on her, noticing that she was cold, bending to spread his own cloak over her. She closed her eyes, fingers knotted in the fabric. _He does care about me. He does_.

_Aaaahhh, someone's in love, _the Behra-voice cooed. _Now come on, girl, snap out of it before the soldiers start having doubts about you as well._

Elana took a deep breath and rose, giving an extra push of her legs against gravity's pull.

'Come on, Padawan, use the Force, shake it off.'

She hadn't heard Mace come up behind her, and his voice made her jump.

'It's too early in the morning,' she complained.

'Stop complaining. We have a job to do.'

Elana's spirit's bounced back from the rebuke with unprecedented vigour. She still had his robe in her hand: hard evidence.

'Thank you Master,' she said politely, handing it over. 'I hope you didn't get too cold.'

'I'm made of sterner stuff than that, Padawan,' he replied, but he pulled it on quickly just the same.

'All the same, it's not exactly the tropics. When are those battle droids going to rock up, d'you think? I could do with a bit of sparring to warm up.'

'One should not jest of war, Caleb, but I must admit anything would be welcome to get us off this Godforsaken –'

Mace stopped speaking as his comlink went off. _That kriffing comlink! _Elana thought._ I'm telling you, if it's another sucking-up message from his BFF Master Dooku –_

'Ah,' Mace said in a tone which chilled her to the bone. 'In the North sector, you say? Very well, Master, I will be ready with my troops. Yes. No. No, of course. Over and out.'

'Master?' she asked with growing dread.

'We're needed at the front,' he muttered, fumbling in his robes to stow the comlink away.

'WHAT?'

'Keep your voice down! The droid army is stronger than we thought, and they've placed live troops in bases below the surface of the water. Our side's walked into an ambush. Caleb, go and alert the men.'

'Why me?'

'They are supposed to follow your authority too, remember. It will boost their morale to think they have two Jedi leading them. Now go!'

Cursing silently Elana ran back into the centre of the camp. She found a hillock and clambered onto it, rallied herself and yelled:

'Soldiers!'

It didn't sound anything like when Mace said it. Raised to that pitch her voice came out horribly feminine, whisked away by the morning breeze. All the same, the men stopped their work and turned towards her.

'There's been a change of plan,' she announced. 'We're required at the front –'

'When did the message come through?' a man asked.

'Just a minute ago. Master Windu received a call on his comlink. Unexpected enemy forces. They're calling all units in to fight –'

'There was supposed to be a margin of safety in the number of troops deployed!' one of the men protested. 'Calling in all backup units is desperate!'

'Exactly!' someone else shouted. 'This is suicide...'

Elana was just about to panic when she heard a lightsaber ignite behind her. Next second Mace sprang onto the hillock beside her.

'It is _not_ suicide,' he said, his voice ringing. 'Yes, we have a hard and dangerous day's work ahead of us, but nothing –' he swished his lightsaber impressively – '_nothing_ that soldiers of the republic cannot handle.' He held up his comlink. 'At the other end of this connection is Jard Dooku, my old friend and one of the Jedi Order's finest. He and his team are working tirelessly right now to work out and co-ordinate a new strategy. This is not some desperate last stand. This is a strategic redeployment of forces, and at the end of it, I promise you, you will see victory. Three cheers, men!'

Mace stabbed his lightsaber into the air and the soldiers responded with a rousing cheer. Elana gave Mace a sidelong glance and then ignited her lightsaber to. There was no harm in emphasising their Jedi-status, but to her it felt wrong, like lying.

All around her, the camp was bursting with activity. The men, their confidence boosted to no end, were hastily preparing for the fight, no longer paying any attention to her and Mace.

Elana switched off her lightsaber and glanced over at Mace, who was staring straight ahead. 'Nice speech,' she commented, wondering just how much of it he had believed himself.

'It was necessary.'

'To make everyone think that we're actually going to win this suicide mission?'

'It's _not_ a suicide mission!'

'What was with all the theatrics, then?'

'Quiet, Sango!' Mace barked; Elana flinched; he hadn't called her that for weeks. She decided to let it pass though, considering how keyed up her master looked.

'I'm sorry, Master. But howdangerous _is_ this mission exactly?'

'We have a good chance – and believing you can win is half the battle.' Mace said slowly, mostly to himself. 'But Padawan,' He said, his voice sounding urgent, 'you must understand, no matter what I may say to the men, that this battle is relying on us; and yes, it will be dangerous. So, Caleb: don't do anything... stupid. Do you understand?'

'Yes Master.' She supposed Mace would look _really_ awful if his Padawan was killed on their very first mission, because he was talking in utmost seriousness. Though she knew what he was saying was important, she could hardly concentrate; she was too distracted by his face. He had _no _idea how devastatingly hot he looked...

'Be careful,' Mace repeated, then turned around and began to instruct the soldiers.

'Yes Master,' Elana sighed. _For you, _she added in her head.

**A/N: So, next chapter will be their first ever big battle! OOOHHH! What will happen? Who will be there? Maybe a certain Sith Lord or his apprentice... or maybe just a load of droids. Either way, Mace, Elana and the rest are in for a tough battle!**

**Thank you SO much to all those lovely people who reviewed, especially Xenagrl321 who recommended us! 3 and kisses from us! **


	13. Into the Battle

**A/N: Sorry this chapter has taken so long to get up. True has had rehearsals, I've had project deadlines and after-school activities by the drove... it's been hectic, I can tell you. Still, we should've got it up sooner, but, at last, here it is! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 11**

On arriving at the assembly point, a large island an hour's travel from their previous base, they were filed into a large underground briefing room. There, Master Plo Koon was waiting for them.

'We do not have much time,' he began as soon as the whole unit had entered. Behind him, a large diagram showed on the screen, taking in the area that they would be fighting in. 'You have to reach this area, and then create a perimeter around this base.' As he spoke, the diagram behind him illustrated what must be done. 'The objective is quite simple: you need to hold off the droids, while your commanders,' he nodded toward Elana and Mace, 'destroy the central command system. This will render all the droids useless, forcing the opposition to retreat.

'There is a large risk,' Plo Koon finished, his voice serious, 'But I have confidence that you will be able to complete this mission; and your success will influence the balance toward our victory very strongly. May the Force be with you!'

Elana left the room in a trance, her mind barely registering what she was doing. She shook her head violently; now was _not _the time to go onto autopilot!

'Caleb!' The voice behind her made her jump. She turned to see Mace standing behind her, next to their speeder bikes. 'Come on, we have to leave.' Mace's voice was brisk, and had just the right level of reassurance to give her hope, but still keep her on her toes. She looked at him in admiration, but as she did so, it dawned on her that this could be the last hour of her life. _Maybe it's fitting, _she thought ironically, _I'm dying as a boy, and a Jedi, _and _in love with someone... _maybe this was the Force's way of removing her from life before she tangled it further...

No. She was _not _going to die. There was hope.

* * *

The water around Mace's bike frothed and churned, spattering his robes and face. He didn't mind, though – the cold water helped him focus, and think of strategies.

'Pllhmph!' A splutter came from next to him, and Mace called out without looking to the side.

'Something wrong, Padawan?'

'Some foam from your stupid bike just went in my mouth!' The boy sounded so indignant that Mace had to bite back a smile.

'Keep your mouth closed while you drive, then, Apprentice.' No response came from behind him, though he could almost hear the boy scowl.

'Focus, Padawan. Think about the task in hand, and apply your mind.'

'Yes Master – but what if thinking makes me open my mouth? Which order do I obey?'

'Be serious, Padawan.'

'Yes Master.' Caleb repeated. Mace knew that bickering with his Padawan was an un-Masterly thing to do, but it was easier than just sitting there, brooding. It helped take their minds off things...

'THERE!' The shout came from a soldier behind him.

Mace looked up sharply to see a speck of land on the horizon, getting closer all the time. It was the War Zone. As they approached, they began to see flashes of light and plumes of smoke, and shouts and bangs echoed toward them from across the water.

'Alright, men, we need to approach from the left. Defensive formation, let's go!' The soldiers shifted into a spread-out triangle, and curved around the edge of the island.

* * *

Elana was wondering what Qui-Gon was doing at this precise moment. He was probably frantically taking communications, working out tactics on the spot, trying to keep everything together... or maybe her friend was just sitting in the canteen, moving forks with the Force. She bit back a laugh, and then mentally slapped herself. How could she be laughing when so many lives were at stake?

'Defensive Formation, let's go!' Mace's voice cracked like a whip across the water. Elana shifted into position, now concentrating wholly on the battle.

'Deflector shields on!' Elana realised that these were not the light, stealthy bikes of their previous journey, but heavy, gadget laden machines, designed for conflict. She stared down at her control panel, and quickly located the shield activator. She flicked the switches to on, and then looked to Mace for further instructions.

They proceeded to edge around the island, until they came to the western point. Elana saw the base looming out if the semi-marsh, exactly as described.

'Alright, now separate! Go!' The squad broke into their smaller groups, each heading to a corner of the base. All was going to plan so far.

Kriff, why had she just thought that! _Touchwood, _Elana thought quickly, reaching up to tap her head; and old joke between her and Behra.

'What are you DOING, Caleb?!' Mace yelled back toward her. She realised that as if from nowhere, two enormous flying droids were in front of her. Could she get out of the way in time?

She half-rolled to the side to avoid the droids, which sent her spiralling into the air. Then, with a judder, the bike stalled, throwing Elana off into the water with a resounding splash.

She heard Mace curse fluently behind her, and then she was plunging down and down...

...Only to be stopped by a large, metal object. She reached out with the Force, and found that she could quite clearly see what was below her. She remembered the last time she had done this, which had resulted in Ki-Adi-Mundi getting an amazing black eye, and- _CASE IN POINT, SANGO!!!_

What she saw below her looked like an enormous, underwater portacabin, but blinking all over with dim lights. Crouched in the water like some strange monster, it would have been totally undiscoverable to anybody who hadn't happened to be in just the right area, at the right depth. Which would have been extremely unlikely, unless they had happened to fall off their bike after touching their head, on their way to a decoy base.

Maybe the Force was on her side, after all.

But she was beginning to run out of air, and she had no idea where the surface was. She began to swim for the faint light above her, but she was running out of breath fast...

Suddenly, Elana felt an overwhelming sense of Déjà Vu.

However, just then, a shape appeared in the water next to her. An unmissable Force signature, and then, for a second time, her Master was Force-lifting her to the surface.

Elana drew in a great gasp of air, and trod water as her Master appeared next to her. He looked so angry Elana automatically recoiled.

'Sango! What in the FORCE were you doing?! You've jeopardized the entire operation, and-'

'But Master - the droid base is down there!'

'WHAT?!'

'The one on the land is a decoy! When I was falling, I saw an enormous machine – _it _was the real controller!'

Mace looked like he had been hit over the head with something hard. 'Are you sure?' he managed.

'Positive! Now let's go!'

And then, for the first time since the beginning of her training, Elana saw an expression of pure admiration on Mace's face. 'Alright; you lead, Padawan.'

Elana took a deep breath, and dived.

For one horrible moment, when all she could see was blackness, Elana thought she might have imagined the whole thing. But then, the dull glint of metal and blink of lights showed just below her.

_/I see it, Padawan./ _Mace spoke across the Force to her.

_/Yes, that's it. Follow me./ _ She dove deeper, her eardrums throbbing. They swam halfway around the base before finding an airlock. But, as Elana had expected, it was tightly shut.

_/Use the Force, Padawan./_ of course. Elana reached out with her feelings, focussing all her will on the door, imagining it opening...

And then, slowly but surely, it did slide open.

_/very good, Caleb./_

The two Jedi scrambled into the airlock, and then the door shut behind them.

* * *

'Well done, Caleb,' Mace congratulated his Padawan as they stood, panting and dripping with seawater, in the airlock. 'I have to say, I'm proud of you, feeling the presence of that base in the Force like that.'

'Erm... yes, that's what happened...' Elana decided she would wait until later to tell him it had been an accident.

'And because the soldiers are surrounding the main base, than no one will guess that we have found this!'

'...and no one will ever find your bodies, either,' A low voice hissed from the shadows, and there was a hum as a blood-red lightsaber was ignited.

* * *

'Sith,' Mace snarled, drawing his own lightsaber and motioning Caleb to do the same.

'Jedi,' a voice returned coolly, and then a hooded figure stepped from the shadows. 'I see you have unwittingly discovered the true Droid base. However, I fear that you will be dead long before you or your apprentice can do anything about it.'

'At least we are willing to fight, rather than skulk in the shadows, cloaking our very presence in darkness.' Mace heard Caleb retort; though he was impressed by the boy's turn of phrase, it would probably only get him into trouble.

'Stay out if this, Caleb,' Mace warned.

The Sith laughed mockingly. 'I see that the Jedi coddle their apprentices; this must be the explanation for you weakness. My master trains me by-' The Sith stopped short, realising his mistake.

'Why, you are no more than an apprentice yourself, for all your boasting!' Mace shouted, and lunged forward, engaging the Sith.

'Caleb! Try and take out the controller!'

'Yes, Master!' Caleb sprinted into the control room.

The apprentice was no novice, Mace realised. He was very accomplished with his lightsaber, parrying every blow that Mace put to him, and adding in a few of his own. He was fast and crafty, always moving, using Mace's lack of knowledge of the area against him.

But it wasn't anything Mace couldn't handle.

He began to incorporate many of his stances and attack patterns from his own Form, upping his level to match the opponent. He was fighting for his life – for many lives. But the Sith was only fighting for himself. That gave Mace a slight advantage.

'When you die, Jedi, many lives will be lost. Your _Padawan-' _he sneered the word, 'will be killed shortly after you. And then, countless others-'

Mace gritted his teeth and lunged forward ferociously, nearly causing the Sith to overbalance. He regained it only just in time.

'Dear, dear, your fighting style is most unbecoming for a Jedi. It cuts very close to the Dark Side.'

'Only a Sith deals in absolutes,' Mace replied.

'Quite.'

The fight had led them into the Control Room, and Mace could hear, Caleb moving around in the darkness, the swirl of his robe occasionally coming into the light of the glowing lightsabers. The Sith leapt backwards and for a wild moment Mace thought he had fallen, or was retreating, but then he heard Caleb's scream and realised that the Sith was now targeting his Padawan.

He dived through the darkness and wrenched his opponent backwards off Caleb, but his own attack sent him lurching backwards and the Sith seized him by the throat and pinned him to the wall.

'Attached, are we?' he hissed. Mace felt a spurt of rage at the needling words and lashed out. The force of the blow took the Sith by surprise and he recoiled, loosening his hold. Mace caught his wrist and twisted his arm, and next second they were grappling hand to hand. For a split second, Mace could see a sliver of his opponent's face: pale skin, a lock of reddish hair, features that appeared human.

But then it was gone, and the Sith was ducking to the side, moving toward Mace's apprentice. _NO! _The thought flashed through his head against his will, and he dived across the room, no thought in his mind other than his Padawan.

He was very nearly too late.

The Sith lord had triumph in his eyes as his blade plunged into Caleb's side. Mace yelled, and with overwhelming force, brought his blade down to meet the Sith's. If he had done so a split second later, the boy would have been cut in half.

Mace's weapon slammed into the Sith's with such force that he stumbled backwards, his blade flailing above him. He tottered, waving his arms to regain his balance-

-and then, as he swung his arm backward, his lightsaber plunged straight into the main computer.

Sparks flew around the room, a chain reaction triggering explosions throughout the system. There were flashes of blinding light, and then the whole base began to shudder.

The Sith turned and ran. Mace was about to go after him, when, above the noise, he heard a groan from behind him. Caleb! He reached down and helped the boy up, noticing with a wince the large wound at his waist. The system was fried – it wouldn't be long before the whole base was destroyed by the reaction. They had to get out now.

Finding the Sith would have to wait.

* * *

Dizzy and disoriented, Elana just about managed to draw in a deep breath when Mace told her to. She half-swum, half-floated to the surface, and then Mace pulled her to the shore.

All around them, there was confusion. Droids were short-circuiting left, right and centre, collapsing where they stood. Elana vaguely noticed a member of her unit running over to them, his face triumphant. Another Jedi, and his Padawan, were behind him.

'You did it! The droids are breaking all over the planet, and our soldiers are forcing the transports into retreat.'

Suddenly, everything was crowding around her, the voices and shouts echoing horribly in her head. Elana realised that she was leaning heavily on Mace, and then everything started spinning around her. She pitched forward onto her knees, and then fell on her side, a rock scraping harshly against her wound.

'Oh Force!' Everybody began to converge around Elana as they realised all was not well. 'What's happened to him?'

'He's gone really pale; was he hurt?'

'Cal?! Are you OK?' Elana recognised that voice. It was Yannec! She tried to call out to him, but found that she couldn't. She realised that her wound, previously singed shut by the heat of the lightsaber, had begun to bleed when she fell on the rock. Everything was starting to go haywire in her head.

'He took a blow with a lightsaber to his side,' Mace explained urgently. 'He needs medical attention. Yannec, quickly, send for help!'

'Yes Master!' He turned and ran away, across the battlefield. Once he was gone, Mace knelt next to Elana and took out his First-Aid pack, searching for a pressure pad.

'Now stay still, Caleb,' Mace Windu said commandingly, staunching the wound. 'It's not that bad, you'll be fine.'

Elana felt lightheaded. The burning wound stung, but what was worse was the slow, deep throb in her side, around the bleeding cut. Less painful, but more sickening. She moved her head, and gasped as she saw the blood.

'You'll be fine,' Mace repeated. He reapplied the pressure pad. 'It's nothing.' He adjusted the pad and she felt another shoot of pain, closely followed by flickers of panic. She'd never seen so much blood before; it might not be much compared to what was left inside her, but it was so bright, and it was everywhere. She was rapidly blacking out, the scarlet dominating everything. Mace laid his strong hand on her shoulder, silently reassuring her.

'Master,' she panted, looking up at him, 'Master, if I don't make it –'

'Don't _say_ that!' he cut her off sharply, but his voice was also distressed. And then, for a third time, 'You'll be just fine.'

Then everything went dark.

**A/N: Sorry that this chapter wasn't so long, but I think it says everything it needs to. If anything is unclear (my battle-writing skills leave a lot to be desired) please don't hesitate to say, either in a PM or a lovely, lovely REVIEW! Sorry there was less romance in this chapter – more is to come, we promise! =)**

**Thanks for reading, please push the magic button... =P**

**\/ \/ \/**


	14. Waking Up

**Chapter 12**

**A/N: Sooo, this will be a veery interesting chapter, I can guarantee that! Interesting how? Well, you'll just have to read and find out, won't you? *cackles***

**Disclaimer: We do not own the original star wars universe. We own Elana, the scenario and characterisations of some people though, and that's nearly enough!!! Mwa ha ha!**

She could hear a vague, steady throbbing sound coming from somewhere close by, and the air smelt cool and clean. Elana shifted slightly, trying to figure out what it was that felt so strange and pleasant. Then it came to her. It was being back at normal air pressure. Everything felt so light and floaty, even though she had only been on Bestine for a couple of days. So that must mean she was back on Corusant and –

Suddenly something clunked into place in her brain and she shot upright with a spurt of panic. Or tried to, but as soon as she tried to move stabbing pains shot through her abdomen and she fell back into what proved to be a hospital bed, her mind blank with panic. The medics would have seen under the concealing robes, seen what she was, she was going to be expelled from the order and faced with her Master's crushing disgust...

'Lie still, Caleb, you'll hurt yourself more!'

Elana blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to get them used to the light, and turned her head. She was lying in the Temple infirmary, wired up to a heart monitor, and Mace was in a chair beside her bed. He had leapt half to his feet, one hand stretched out as though he thought he might have to restrain her from leaping out of bed and strolling off to the salle to do a spot of lightsaber practise... well, whatever he was thinking of, for some reason it wasn't crushing disgust.

'Caleb! Are you in pain?'

'Nuh-uh.' Just then, Elana realised. Of course, all critical medical work was undertaken by droids – how could she have forgotten? They wouldn't have been programmed to notice the difference between male and female bodies, so her secret was safe. She felt positively weak with relief.

'I thought you were never going to wake up.' Mace shook his head slowly, sinking back into his chair. Elana's confusion was quickly being replaced by need to know what had happened after she had blacked out – and more importantly, a warm fuzzy feeling at Mace's words. _He does care!_

'Of course I was going to wake up!' she said, anxious to make him feel better.

'I meant figuratively speaking.'

'Oh, right.' Elana glanced around at the machinery she was hooked up to. 'Is all this really necessary? I didn't realise I was that dead.'

Now Mace looked sheepish. 'Often one finds that minor injuries can become critical very rapidly if not carefully treated,' he said in his teacher voice. What did he mean by that exactly? 'You gave me quite a turn, passing out like that.'

'I'm sorry.'

There's no need for _you _to apologize, Caleb!' Mace shook his head incredulously. Elana decided to change the subject before she said anything else that would make Mace feel bad.

'So... after I passed out, what happened?'

'Well, we won the battle.' Mace latched onto the subject eagerly. 'After we destroyed the control unit, all the droids shut down, and the few live soldiers surrendered quickly. There were hundreds of thousands of droids, Caleb. If you hadn't found and destroyed that command centre there's no knowing what might have happened. Certainly it would not have been a victory.' He paused, then said quietly: 'You're a hero, Caleb.'

'Uh, you know it was actually an accident.' Elana tried to duck her head, a difficult manoeuvre for someone lying flat on their back.

'I rather thought it was an unconscious decision,' Mace said, 'but an accident? Do you really believe we won this battle by chance, Caleb?'

'You think the Force was on our side?'

'Nothing happens by accident.' Mace leaned closer, his eyes fixed on her face. 'I think it is quite probable that you were _meant_ to fall off that bike when you did. And that chain reaction I set off – _by accident_ – wouldn't have occurred if you hadn't already done something to the works in the station. And accidents aside, you were incredibly brave. You obeyed my orders immediately, and you did not allow yourself to become distracted, an impressive feat for such a young apprentice. I was never wholly positive about this idea of conscripts, but I – and the Order – are lucky to have you.'

'Thank you,' Elana breathed.

'Not many Padawans with your level of training would have survived that experience. 'For a moment...' Mace's eyes turned haunted, and Elana realised that he looked tired and worn, like a veteran of many sleepless nights... 'I thought I was going to lose you.' He reached out and took her hand, gripping it firmly as though to hold her there. 'You should never have had to fight in the first place, but you came through.'

'I'm just glad we won,' Elana whispered. 'I'm in this to protect my people too, don't forget.'

'And you've done that.' Mace smiled, pushing her hair off her forehead. 'Winning this battle gives us great strategic advantage. It is likely that we will be able to push on now, and eradicate this threat. The Chancellor is extremely grateful to us. When you are well enough, he would very much like to meet you.'

Elana's jaw dropped, barely able to cope with the strain of it all. She just about managed to get it together enough to choke out:

'Me? Meet the Supreme Chancellor?'

'Yes, you.' Mace was smiling now, but as though he were laughing with her rather than at her. 'As soon as you are well enough. The Senate must come together soon to discuss our next move. There will be a state function first, and you are invited.'

Chancellor! _State Function?!_ Sure, Elana had been to her share of parties, but never one that had someone as important as the supreme _chancellor _at it! And she had no idea how boys were meant to act. She would mess up, she could only hope that Mace wouldn't mind too much... 

'Wait. You are coming with me, aren't you?' Elana squeaked. Mace actually laughed a bit.

'Yes, but I wouldn't rely on me for smooth social networking if I were you.' _That makes two of us. _

'Don't worry, I'll just hide behind you.'

'While the semolina bowls fly at my head.'

'Yeah, that.'

Mace chuckled again, but then his smile faded and he leaned forwards to look into her eyes. Elana felt her chest constricting. 'I'm glad you're back with us, Padawan,' he said softly.

* * *

Mace swallowed, staring down at his own knees for a moment. Caleb looked so frail lying there, though the droids insisted that he was in good health, as though he might simply melt away. He felt an urge to touch his face – not an irritating face at all, he now realised, but pleasant and engaging, handsome even – as though to make sure it was still there. He looked up again, shaking off the morbid thoughts. There was a healthy bloom of colour in Caleb's cheeks now, that had been absent all the time he'd been sedated; his eyes were open and focussed. He was mending, he would soon be as good as new. Mace reached forward and gripped his hand.

'I think your friend Qui-Gon is waiting to see you,' he said, 'so I will leave now. May the Force be with you.'

* * *

'And with you, Master,' Elana whispered shakily. She watched as he swept out of the infirmary, pausing at the door to let Qui-Gon past.

Her friend's face was jubilant, and she thought she could guess why.

'Ah, he luuuuurrrrves you,' Qui-Gon sighed, flopping down in the chair Mace had just vacated.

'Don't start.'

'Sorry.' Qui-Gon looked contrite. He paused for a second. 'Well, you're looking better than you were last time I saw you.'

'You saw me? Come to think of it, what happened after I passed out on Bestine?'

'Well, they flew you off on a small transport before the bulk of the army. Took you straight here, the droids gave you some medical care on the way. And you know I was working with the healers while you lot were away, and I was just doing the routine stuff – you know, re-bandaging sprains, changing the sheets on the bed and stuff – when a couple of them carried you in on a stretcher, completely passed out with an oxygen mask over your face. Gave me quite a turn.'

'Mmmmyes, I can see why it would.'

'And Master Windu was following, he looked...well, freaked out, to be honest. No joke, Cal, I think he really does care about you.'

'Yeah, Qui...' Elana mumbled, squirming.

'Seriously. Look, I know you worry, but not all Master's are like Master Dooku. A lot of people disapprove of the way he trains me, in fact. But just because your Master's tough on you, it doesn't mean you don't matter to him, as much as I matter to Dooku.'

'Yeah.' Elana paused. 'Thanks, Qui.'

'No problem. I just wish you'd been awake, because when Master Mace' (Elana noticed the resumption of the teasing name) 'saw me, I thought he would eat me. Wish you'd been there to smooth stuff over.'

'Sorry, I hope my unconscious form sent calming vibes to you.'

'Must've done. I'm still alive, aren't I?'

Elana laughed.

'Oh, by the way,' Qui-Gon continued, 'by the sound of things, you're gonna need those social skills. What's all this about you meeting the Chancellor?'

'Oh, Force, I forgot! What am I going to do?'

'It can't be that hard, just say something smooth about how grateful you are and it was a fluke and all that.' Elana was offended. How dare Qui-Gon suggest her success was pure luck? Well, it was, but...

'I have to attend a _function, _Qui. Do you know what that means, or are you too ignorant?'

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. 'No. Enlighten me.'

'It's the posh way of saying a large, important,' Elana paused for dramatic effect, '_party.'_

'Force, Cal,' Qui-Gon leaned backwards and sighed. 'You are _so _screwed.'

* * *

Once she had gotten used to the entire boy side of parties, it wasn't so bad. Just laugh loudly at people's awful jokes, stand around, greet ladies politely and eat a lot. In fact, she was quite enjoying not having to hold herself back when it came to snacking – after all, she was a teenage boy, what else could they expect?

'Caleb?' Elana turned around, her mouth full of some kind of delicious cake.

'Mmmph?'

'Swallow that quickly, you look like a hamster. The chancellor is coming over this way.'

A tall, white-haired man was approaching them, already smiling in greeting.

'Master Windu! A pleasure to be seeing you here!'

Mace smiled and extended a hand in greeting. The Chancellor shook it cordially, and then turned to Elana.

'And this is your Padawan, I presume?'

'Yes, this is Caleb,' Mace indicated that she should start talking to the Chancellor.

'Good evening, Chancellor,' Elana started.

'Good evening, Caleb Sango,' the Chancellor responded with a warm smile, extending his hand. She took it and they shook hands. She was surprised; she had expected to find him much more intimidating than this, like Mace, or Yoda, or even her father in a bad mood.

But his expression was friendly and approachable. A part of her was warming to him already, but deep in her stomach she felt unease. She wasn't awed by him at all. A leader should be more frightening than this, not the sort of man that any nineteen-year-old girl impersonating a Padawan could look in the eye.

'We are indebted to you and your Master,' the Chancellor was saying. 'Without your aid it would not have been a victory. I must admit that I was doubtful at first about the practicality of using Force-sensitives as soldiers, but now I am glad I decided in favour of it.'

'The living Force works through us all, my Lord,' Elana replied soberly. 'I am grateful that it chooses to enlighten our leaders in these troubled times.'

The Chancellor nodded. He seemed both bored and satisfied. This was the way Jedi were supposed to talk. She had lived up to expectations.

'Indeed,' he replied. 'This is a great success for your conscription programme, Master Windu.' With that, he began to drift away towards another group of delegates. Elana was taken aback; could it really be that simple. She was almost disappointed that such a brief and easy exchange should be all that was required of her.

'Well, there you have it,' Mace shrugged.

'They don't like us Jedi much, do they?'

'They don't understand us.' Mace's face darkened slightly, but he seemed more resigned than angry. 'To them the Force seems vague, unreliable compared to a good blaster cannon. Half the time they think the Force is some kind of infallible magic trick, the other half they think Master Yoda is just a pretentious old quack talking through his hat.' Elana giggled at this, and Mace's face relaxed into a reluctant grin. 'Sorry. But where did all that living Force talk come from?'

'I listen to my Master.'

'Ha. Well, you certainly came across as his image of a genuine Jedi. Whether that is a good thing or a bad thing...'

Elana wasn't listening much beyond noticing the rich tone of his voice. She was thinking back on the Chancellor's words: _this is a great success for you conscription programme_.

Could it be that this was all that Mace really cared about? That she had made his job a success? Was the only reason he was concerned about her that it would spoil his reputation; even after all they had been through?

* * *

Mace watched as his Padawan's smile faded, and he began to look troubled. What could possibly be the matter with him? Wasn't he happy, that they had won, that the whole Senate was grateful to them?

'Caleb, are you all right?' Mace had to know what was wrong with the boy, he was looking more dejected by the second.

Caleb looked up, some of the worry leaving his large brown eyes. Now they were back from Bestine, his eyes were a normal colour, not that astonishingly bright green that the high pressure had induced. 'Yes, Master, I'm fine, thanks,' He looked away again. 'Just a little tired.'

Mace cursed himself for letting Caleb even come to this party. He should have let him rest for longer, until he was fully recovered, instead of bringing him straight into action again.

'I'm sorry,' he began, 'you probably shouldn't be up so late –'

'Please, Master,' Caleb interrupted, smiling beautifully. 'I'm not twelve.'

'You look troubled,' Mace said quietly, at last.

'No, no...'

'I see.'

'I just think,' Elana said, 'that we should do more training together. I don't feel I'm developing an in-depth understanding of combat as I should.' It was the closest she could get to_ I think you don't spend enough time with me because you don't care about me and are only using me to boost your credentials with the Council._

Mace was looking like he'd read something into it.

'Of course.' He placed a hand on Caleb's shoulder. 'You are my Padawan, I should make time. Your concern for your own education is admirable.' Caleb ducked his head, looking awkward but happy in a way that made him want to reach out and...

Oh no. Oh, no, no, no, no, _no_.

_How _could this be happening? _How? _

He had to go _right _now.

He turned to Caleb, but didn't look at his face.

'Padawan, can you fend for yourself for a minute? I have to...' he let the sentence tail off, and then walked, too fast, out of the hall.

He hurried along the corridor until he found open windows and a balcony looking out over Corusant. He took a gasp of cold air and then leaned on the balustrade and dropped his head into his hands. He couldn't be having feelings like this, not now, not for _Caleb_. But it was crystal clear to him that they were there. He slammed a fist into the balustrade and raked his eyes desperately over the city lights as though they could give him an answer.

* * *

Elana heard whispers behind her.

'Which one?'

'That one.'

'What – you mean the Padawan?! You know they're not allowed to-'

'I know, I _know. _But he is _so cute!'_

Right, now she was seriously alarmed. Girls were thinking she was hot! Force, that was disturbing! How many times had she had exactly that conversation with Behra, over some young soldier or Politician's son?

And afterward, Behra would _always _go over to the boy. She had to get away before they reached the next part of the process! If only she could find her Master!

Elana scanned the packed hall, wondering where in the Force her master had got to. Maybe he had received an emergency signal or something; he had looked so freaked out...

* * *

Mace started, as he realised that of course, he should have seen it coming.

From the start, he had found Caleb irritating, and he realised now it was because the boy had made him feel insecure, out of control. Then everything started happening; Caleb discovering the Force, the pool incident, Caleb becoming his Padawan. Even the Sith had sensed he was becoming too attached to his Padawan – though he had never guessed that it would be _this _kind of attachment.

And then, after his panic when Caleb passed out, there were those endless days waiting by the hospital bed, waiting for his Padawan to wake up, unable to think about what would happen if he were not too...

... his joy when the boy had woken, having to touch him to make sure he was real, and so many other countless things. It all added up. And Mace didn't like it one bit.

Mace Windu was in love with his Padawan, Caleb Sango.

* * *

**A/N: Poor li'l Macey! He's in luurve!**

**Liked it, hated it? Disturbed by it? Please review and air your opinions!**

**BTW, a slight changeover in the playlist: instead of Everyday again at the end, it is now 'Look at us now' by Sabrina somebodyorother! If you can find a cover with a slightly less annoying voice singing, it will improve the effect. Thanks!**


	15. Katas

Mace was avoiding her.

Flopping exasperatedly on her bed, Elana took a break from being exasperated to simply marvel at the feat. She was his Padawan, for goodness' sake; they _lived_ together. And yet she barely saw him from one day's end to the next. He had a Council meeting, he was training the younglings – he detested younglings – she caught him at breakfast if she got up early enough and usually managed to eat dinner at the same time as him, and that was it.

What had she done _this_ time?

For the third time that morning she lunged reflexively for the commlink on her wall to call Qui-Gon and rant, then remembered that long analytical discussions on one's feelings were effeminate, and that anyway she was supposed to be releasing her emotions into the Force.

'Gaaaaahhhhh!' she burst out, flipping over onto her front and banging her head into the pillow. 'This Jedi lark is so kriffing _boring_!'

'Well, maybe I can liven it up for you, Kitty-cat,' a sing-song voice suggested. Elana twisted round and looked up to see a long-haired alien with golden eyes floating in mid air above her bed, his legs crossed.

'Who on Hoth are you?' she shrieked.

The alien looked a little taken aback. 'Sorry, wrong room,' he said, his face taking on a politer expression. 'Um...do you know where I might find Momomiya Ichigo, please?'

'I'm sorry, I –' Elana was starting to answer when another, completely different voice called from outside:

'Caleb!'

'Mace!' Elana gasped, diving out of bed, catching her foot in her sheets and crashing to the floor. The strange alien quietly vanished as she struggled to write herself.

'Caleb, what _are_ you doing?'

* * *

Things had gone on long enough, Mace had decided. Avoiding Caleb might be in both their best interests, but when the boy started spending all his time mooning around their apartments it was clear something had to give. So he walked up to his Padawan's door, steeled himself and called more harshly than he had intended:

'Caleb?'

There were sounds of flailing and an almighty crash from within. Mace pushed the door open in alarm and saw his Padawan sprawled on the floor, staring at him and looking both alarmed and distinctly sheepish.

'Caleb,' Mace said firmly. 'I can't have you wasting time like this. Get up and show a little dignity, please.' Caleb clambered to his feet, grinding his teeth.

'I think you are sufficiently well...' Excuses, Mace, excuses... 'to do some lightsaber training today.'

'I thought you were busy,' Caleb muttered.

'I have to supervise some Initiates in their fencing practise today, but I can multitask. Come to the training salle and I will give you some katas to work on while I teach them. Is that alright?'

'Yes Master,' Caleb murmured, eyes cast down. 'You are an important man; I understand.'

'Come on then.' Mace clapped him on the shoulder and steered him out of the room. In the salle he handed his Padawan a long pole and then instructed him how to use it in a series of motions that mimicked a common attack pattern. Elana watched him slowly swinging the pole through the various phases. Even at this pace the power and skill in his movements was evident; she could imagine how the pole might leap in his hands and overpower an opponent before she could blink.

'Now it's your turn,' he almost-smiled. 'Pay particular attention to how each movement feeds into the next. That is what a kata aims to teach you.' Elana took the pole from him and watched him stride off up the salle, calling the younglings to attention. She moved into the first stance, focussing on each of her muscle groups in turn.

Mace led the younglings through a series of motions. None of them were learning as fast as his Padawan, but then they were much younger. It was a trial to be teaching with his back to Caleb, and not be able to keep half an eye on his progress, but, Mace reflected, it was probably better to give the younglings his undivided attention for as long as he was supposed to be teaching them.

'Now pair up,' he told them once they were warmed up. 'I'm going to sit over here and watch you spar. First practise the defence I taught you, then try to use it in the context of a bout.

'Speed up now, Caleb,' he called to his Padawan, moving to sit by the rail where he had a good view of them all. Caleb began to move swiftly and gracefully through the kata as though fending off an invisible enemy, one stance flowing seamlessly into the next. The boy was a natural. It was astonishing that he had not been identified at birth – it was clear that his midi-chlorian count was far above the average, without even taking a test.

In some ways, this thought was disturbing. How had the Jedi missed the boy in the first place, especially considering who his father was? Why hadn't his parents had him trained as a Jedi before now, as his skills were so obvious? And... Supposing Caleb was not the only one, and all over the galaxy, equally talented individuals were also being missed? Mace shook his head. These were questions that he could not answer now, and that he didn't really like to think about anyway.

He turned his gaze back to Caleb. He marked how fluidly the boy moved, the light build Mace had previously scorned serving well now. He was obviously trying hard, his sculpted lips pursed with concentration...Mace jolted himself out of that train of thought; Caleb's facial expression was irrelevant. He checked the boy's grip on the pole. He was holding it a little too close to the middle, but the position of his slender fingers was perfect. Mace shook his head in exasperation. This was hopeless. _Why _was he noticing these things?

'How is your Padawan progressing?'

Mace jumped as the voice of Master Mundi sounded beside him. He turned and answered the Master.

'I am pleased with his progress,' he said. 'Wouldn't you agree he is doing remarkably well for a conscript?'

'Well for a conscript, yes, but myself I would not call him remarkable. I suppose beauty, as they say, is in the eye of the beholder.'

Mace stood abruptly. 'What do you mean?' he demanded.

'Dear me, calm yourself. These tempers of yours are most unbecoming to a Jedi. As is the interest you seem to be harbouring.'

'I don't fully understand you, Master,' Mace said stiffly.

'I have seen the expression on your face whenever you watch your Padawan,' Mundi said coldly. 'When I entered your eyes were nearly dropping out. You are young to be training so comely an apprentice –'

'These accusations are entirely false,' Mace spat, his fists clenched.

'Be mindful of your feelings,' Mundi retorted. 'If you wish to prove yourself as a Jedi Master, you must learn to control your passions. Good day to you.'

He turned and strode away, leaving Mace confused and angry, both at the master and himself. His first impulse, other than to run after Ki-Adi and punch him, was to get out of the Salle as fast as he could and never go near his Padawan again – it was too hard not tell Caleb his feelings, when he was talking to him or even looking at him. Otherwise, there was no knowing what he might accidentally say or do. But of course that wasn't possible. He sighed, turning his back on his Padawan. Caleb looked so darn attractive (_no! I did not just think that!)_; there was no way that he could keep watching him without appearing to ogle.

Elana watched the high-headed master stride away from Mace, leaving him looking stricken. Then his look became angry, and he turned away from her. It appeared that he had decided only the Younglings deserved his attention. _Let me guess, I'm in trouble._ _Ki-Adi snitched about something, and now Mace is going to be angry. _

She sighed. Whenever her master got mad with her – which was often enough – he didn't shout or try and frighten her, he just lectured, letting his tone and expression do the real punishment. She almost preferred the rough, bad-tempered yelling he had done when she had been a Conscript. The feeling that her Master was disappointed was practically unbearable, considering how much she wanted him to be proud of her. In fact, the only plus-side of making her Master angry was that she got to stare into his eyes for a considerable amount of time – something she very much enjoyed doing. Her thoughts were nearly always on him, and she could tell that this was more than a crush. Elana wished that somehow Mace could return her feelings, but he was far too devout a Jedi to even think of doing that.

She let out another sigh, moving absentmindedly through the Katas, watching her master's back. She wished he would turn around, so she could see his face, handsome and chiselled, and look into his dark and penetrating eyes. As it often did, her mind strayed to the time when he had rescued her from the pool... the feeling of his body so close to hers...

She shook her head. Thinking about these things for hours on end was not going to get her anywhere. There were only ten minutes of the hour left, and she knew Mace would expect the Katas to be perfect, whether he'd helped her or not. She should probably go through them again.

But they were getting monotonous now. Bored, she looked down the Salle, watching some senior Padawans, Qui-Gon included, who were also practising Katas. She noticed him do an interesting-looking move. He first leapt in the air, as if dodging a swipe at his legs, and then drew back one leg. On landing, he pivoted on the other and brought the first leg forward in a high kick, delivered to his imaginary opponent's neck. She studied the move several times. It was complex, but it would fit in well with her current exercise.

Qui-Gon spotted her watching, and waved. 'Oy, Cal! Come over here!' Elana glanced at her master. He still had his back to her. If she joined the others, she would be moving into his line of vision. _Well, _she thought, _if he doesn't want to look at his own Padawan, who am I to force him?_

' I'm OK here, thanks!' she called back, but added, 'I'll meet you at dinner!' so that he wouldn't think she was mad at him for some unknown reason.

She knew how annoying that was.

'Ok!' Qui-Gon continued with his exercise. Elana stretched a few times, and then started to slowly do her katas, incorporating the extra stance smoothly. Narrowing her eyes in concentration, she forgot everything except the swirling pole, hardly noticing what was happening around her...

Mace could feel the confusion and anxiety emanating from Caleb. Of course rejecting him as his Padawan was unthinkable, and he shouldn't be ignoring him like this either. It was a Master's duty to support and educate his Padawan; for Mace to cut Caleb off merely because of his own weakness was unfair and wrong. As the hour finished and the salle began to empty, he steeled himself and approached his Padawan, trying to keep himself very upright and together; both physically and mentally.

'Caleb,' he called.

'Master?'

'Show me the kata at full speed, with that extra attack you seem to have incorporated.' Caleb flushed slightly, ducked his head and began to move through the kata again.

'It's very good,' Mace approved when he was done. 'That's an advanced move for you to be doing. I knew Form II would be right for you.' A part of him felt guilty for claiming credit when actually he'd just been trying to push Caleb as hard as possible, but he set the thought aside.

'Thank you, Master,' Caleb was murmuring demurely, eyes on the ground. He seemed subdued somehow.

_Of course he is subdued_, Mace thought angrily to himself, _he is being neglected by his own Master and doesn't know why. _He forced himself to stay, to say something more.

'You are becoming unbalanced on the kick; a swift enemy could knock you backwards. While leaning back, try to keep your weight forwards, like this.' He took the pole from his Padawan and executed the kick, landing squarely back on his feet with the weapon poised for the next move, and suddenly, on top of everything else, he felt as though he were showing off. Mace resisted the urge to fling the pole away in rage. Could he do nothing right?

'I see.' Caleb took the pole back and began to repeat the move, twist leap kick, twist leap kick, while Mace tried both to watch and not to watch, and all the time the anxious misery emanated from his apprentice...

'Caleb, is there anything bothering you?' Mace asked abruptly. That was the way forward, surely. Enquire as to what was troubling his Padawan, have a supportive conversation with him, offer him help and guidance. Maybe then he would feel that he was doing his duty.

Elana halted in the middle of her kata and turned slowly to look at him. Was there anything bothering her? Nothing she could care tell _him_, anyway. Or could she?... Elana knew that asking the tentative question forming in her mind would not solve anything, but she could not resist finding out how he stood, how hopeless her dream really was. She shook her head slowly, and then asked:

'Master, do you believe all love is love?'

'Do I believe all love is love?' Mace repeated slowly. 'Caleb, put away your things, you have trained enough. Let us walk.' He waited in the middle of the room while she stacked her pole in the corner, and then fell into step beside her and led her out of the salle, into the deserted corridor.

'Well yes,' he said once they were comfortably walking. He sounded faintly bemused. 'Something is what it is, I suppose. I don't think I fully understood you, Padawan.'

'What I meant was, do you believe that some of the things which some claim to be love, are love? Because love is good, isn't it.'

'Yes. But forbidden to a Jedi.'

'Of course. But is all love good? Love between family, between man and woman... between two men?'

So that was what was bothering him! Something he had heard somewhere, of one of the others, or something inside himself. Mace crushed down the hope almost before he could recognise it for what it was, and said thoughtfully:

'That is something I have lately been considering myself.'

'Is it really?' Caleb asked with too much interest.

'Yes, it really is,' Mace replied with a touch of humour. 'And I would say yes, I suppose. Love is a blessing to anyone who feels it.'

'More of a curse to a Jedi.'

'You are not the first to have said so, and certainly it seems so to me...at times. It is often hard, very hard indeed, to avoid...be mindful of your feelings and study the Force, Caleb.'

'Mmmm.' Elana was too deep in thought to bother with the formal 'yes Master.' 'And have you ever been tempted?' she asked riskily.

'Yes,' Mace replied, very shortly. _So he might,_ she thought wildly, _he might love a man._ She wasn't sure if that made her situation more or less hopeless than before.

'And supposing...' she said, and though she felt him flinch. She rallied herself and plunged recklessly in. 'Supposing one man loved another, but he was...was deceiving, was keeping something important...' Mace gave her a quizzical look, and she found herself flailing amongst her words as she had done in the pool. If only she could tell him the truth so that he could pull her out again! 'I mean, not lying about his love, but about something to do with it...if he wasn't really attracted to men – but was – but not that way...'

'Caleb.' Mace stopped walking and turned in the corridor to face her. 'What are you on about?'

She could see more questions forming on his lips, compromising questions to which she had no safe answer. Her deception seemed to teeter around her like a tower of children's blocks, and the whole world with it. How to shut him up?

In panic, or maybe something more guided, she leaned forwards, and her lips just sort of crashed into his and stuck.

He was completely frozen, though an arm came up almost reflexively to support her back, and she closed her eyes and clenched her teeth, waiting for the worst. Still nothing happened, and she slowly pulled away and stood, holding her breath.

Mace was looking at her as though seeing her for the first time, his expression unfathomable but not angry. And then he reached out and pulled her back.

Elana's breathing quickened and she pushed closer, even as her mind screamed at her the danger of such proximity. She slid a hand around Mace's neck and her lips parted...then without warning he wrenched his hands off her and pushed her violently away.

'I'm sorry!' she gasped, frozen against the wall where she'd hit it.

'No, I'm sorry. Caleb, are you hurt?' Suddenly Mace was right in front of her, his hands fluttering uselessly as he first reached to help her and then pulled back.

'I'm fine!' she choked out, fending him off with one arm. 'Master, I –'

'Go to our apartments, Caleb,' Mace ordered, his voice hollow, toneless. 'You are too hot, you have worked too hard. Meditate on the Force. I will join you for our evening meal.' He was raging inside. Why should the boy apologise? What more was to be expected of him, a young man, fresh from the outside world? It was a Master's duty to guide his Padawan away from such acts and strengthen him against them, not lead him on! Mace turned and walked rapidly away from his Padawan, fled really, his mind in turmoil.

Elana sank against the wall and pushed her sweaty hair off her forehead. _What have I done?_ She thought. _I came here to prove myself, not fall in love. But then, I came here to help win this war, not become a permanent Jedi._ She was in too deep, in so many ways; with Mace, with her fragile disguise, with being a Jedi. This had _not_ been her intention, when she had run away that windy spring night.

And what now? What would happen because of her rash act? Would Mace Windu report her to the Jedi Council, or would he simply hate her forever? But a small, rebellious part of her mind reminded her that, for the briefest second, he had kissed her back.


	16. Plan B

**Okeys, here is a little supplement chapter for you! Enjoy, and may the Force be with you...**

**Plan B**

The Sith Lord slammed his fist against the wall and cursed. Beneath his hood, his eyes glowed bright red, and flashed like lasers in the dark base.

His apprentice stood quietly next to him, the very faintest trace of smugness in his tone when he spoke. 'I _did _say,' he began cautiously, 'that that attack would be a bed ide – arrgh!'

His master had blasted him with a burst of Dark lightning, throwing him across the room to land on the hard stone floor. He lay, crumpled, for a moment, but then got slowly to his feet, rubbing the back of his head.

'I am sorry, Master,' he muttered, his eyes on the floor. The Sith paid him no heed.

'It appears,' he said quietly, his temper for the most part gone, 'that we will need to rethink our plans.'

'What do you have in mind, Master?' The apprentice asked tentatively.

The Lord began to pace, his black robes swirling about him. 'I did, of course, have a back-up plan in case our first scheme failed. Now, I think, is the time to bring it into action. I have the necessary codes and knowledge to break into every droid in the galaxy's software – do not ask how I obtained it, Apprentice, for it is not a secret I will share with you – and if I could obtain the processing power and equipment to condense the information, it would be a simple matter to activate the codes.

'And then?' Asked the apprentice.

'We would have control over each and every droid in existence. They would turn against their masters, leave their factories, and join our forces, or remain as spies, if we wished. Even the machines in the Jedi Temple would be under our control, and thus, all the information of their plans. Do you see, Apprentice? Complete control.'

'But Master...' the younger man paused, hesitant to raise this flaw, 'how will we get the power we need?'

Even through the shadows of his hood, an evil smile could be made out on the Sith's face. 'Alderaan has one of the strongest technological and scientific bases in the galaxy at its disposal. There is one man in particular we could influence to our advantage – Shan Sango.'

'Why him?'

'Recently, his daughter went missing. He has been distraught. We could bluff to him... pretend that we know where she is,' the Sith Lord chuckled menacingly.

His apprentice wasn't quite so taken with the idea. 'Master... there are a lot of things that could go wrong with that plan. He might find her before we can, or not believe us, or not have the influence we need to get control of that base, or – '

His Master rounded on him. 'Silence!' he snapped. 'The plan _will _work, and I know it. You must return to Naboo and do your duties, and when I have moved my pieces into position you will serve as an Ambassador for us. But make sure your other identity remains hidden – your place in the courts may still be valuable to us.'

'Yes, Master.'

'Good. Now go.'

The young man bowed, and then headed for a small, khaki transport that blended perfectly into the vines. He got in and gunned the accelerator, speeding away from the temple and into the surrounding jungle. Their meeting had lasted a little over half-an-hour. It was dangerous to stay together for much longer than that, even here.

His master turned to a large computer that stood at the other end of the room, it's bright, sleek shape so out-of-place with the surroundings. He switched the screen on, and began to key in a set of complicated codes, settling into the work that must be done, and done quickly.

He dearly hoped his plan would work this time. And he had every confidence that it would, with assistance from the powers of love over duty. Attachment worked so often in the favour of the Sith.

_Elana Sango, you have no idea what your running away will cause. _

**A/N: Sorry... a longer chapter will be up also in the next few days! Thanks for waiting so patiently! XD**

**Izzy**


	17. Sparring

**A/N: We're really sorry for the inexcusable length of time it is taking us to update at the moment – due to an untimely obsession with Tokyo Mew Mew Anime (BTW, Wolfy, Ricey, Orange and Vampgirl, this your fault! And you, Jazz.) We have been suffering from writers block and lack of inspiration. Oh, and we were on holiday for two and a half weeks. BUT... anyhow. Here is the next chapter! Sorry it took so long! XD  
Enjoy!**

**Izzy.**

**Chapter 14 - Sparring**

Several hours later, Elana staggered towards her apartments after 'meditating' (some might call it angsting or fuming) in the room of a thousand fountains for at least two hours.

Her stomach felt like it was skipping, or playing hopscotch, or doing something that stomachs definitely weren't supposed to do, anyway. Oh Force, what was she going to say to Mace? Nobody had come and tapped her on the shoulder and asked her to come before the Council to be vaporised for code-breaking yet, which hopefully meant that he hadn't told anybody, but –

Elana stopped dead as she realised that the corridor was not empty. Qui-Gon was standing outside her door. Her thoughts veered between '_thank God, someone to complain to_!' and '_entertaining! Exactly what I DON'T need to be doing right now_', but then she saw the look on his face.

He was very white, and his eyes were rimmed with red. His hair stood on end as though he'd been running his fingers through it and the look he gave her was almost distraught. Elana stared for a moment and then lurched towards him, her irritation melting away.

'Qui-Gon!' she exclaimed, 'what's wrong?'

He passed a shaking hand over his forehead. 'Hey, Cal.' His voice was a bitter mockery of its usual jaunty tone. 'Can I come in?'

'Of course!' She hurried to key in the code that opened her door and ushered him inside. She led him to the dining table and offered him a chair, then hit a button on the wall for caff. While the machine was booting up she turned and asked:

'What's wrong?'

Qui-Gon took a deep, shuddering breath and then said:

'It's my Master. We've had a falling-out_.'_

_Did you try to kiss yours too? _Elana nearly blurted, but stopped herself just in time. 'What about?' she asked finally.

'...ethical differences,' Qui-Gon said, after a moment's thought. Elana watched him in silence, her brain turning over the two words, until the caff machine pinged. Then she jumped and turned round to lift the two mugs onto the table.

'Qui-Gon,' she said, gently and firmly. 'Drink this and tell me about it, if you want to.'

'Yeah,' Qui-Gon said, pulling himself together and taking a shaky sip, 'yeah. You see...'

He was quiet for a long time, gulping his caff intermittently. Whatever had happened between him and Dooku, he was clearly finding it difficult to talk about. Elana felt her own problem shrink away and diminish by comparison. At last Qui-Gon took a sharp breath and said abruptly:

'He thinks the Code doesn't work. You know that; so do I. So you saw how we were always...talking, bouncing ideas off of each other for how we thought it should be. I...I really admired him, Cal, I –'

'Admir_ed_?' Elana asked sharply.

'That's it: I don't know any more!' Qui-Gon's head snapped up to face her. 'You see, Master feels – and I agree – that the Code has become unsound. That we Jedi aren't following the Force but an interpretation set down by our elders. And like a game of Chinese whispers, every time it gets handed down it gets more garbled.'

'I see...'

'Often a Jedi can't do what he feels to be right because of some obscure rule or other. And I always agreed wholeheartedly with my Master, I always said that if it came to it I would trust the Force, defy the Code if I had to. But...but I never doubted that fundamentally the Order was sound.' Qui-Gon faltered, staring unseeingly into his caff, and for a moment Elana thought that he wasn't going to continue. But finally he said, barely above a whisper:

'We used to discuss...the changes we would make, how we thought it ought to be. In the Order, in the Senate, everywhere. But tonight, as we were talking, I realised he had no respect for the Order. It wasn't just some minor details of the Code he thought were unsound, it was our whole system, our whole government.'

'And you don't agree?'

'I believe in the Order, Caleb. But it wasn't just that. He stopped discussing within any meaning of the word and just ran on, dictating the order of things as he would make it, and I realised that he would_ make _it. He would be prepared to put himself in charge, and form everything to his own design. And he would do it for good, Caleb, but...but...'

'But what?'

'Bu we're a _democracy_!' he cried, leaping suddenly to his feet. Elana was struck by how tall he was; for an instant she thought she glimpsed a different, older man shining through him. But then he was Qui-Gon again, looking younger than she'd ever seen him before, a broken, frightened boy. 'We're a democracy,' Qui-Gon repeated, 'and he...he doesn't believe in democracy, Caleb.' He sank slowly back into his chair and covered his face with hands.

Elana was still for a moment, shocked. Then she reached across the table and took his hand.

'Listen, Qui-Gon, it's not the end if the world,' she said soothingly. 'He got carried away, that's all. Outside the Order people talk like that all the time. You should have heard my father's dinner parties! "If I ruled the world, I'd do this, I'd do that." That's the trouble with the Order: we're all under so much pressure. One tiny thing and we'll fall to the Dark side. I mean, you shouldn't even have come to see me, should you, you should have meditated and released your concerns into the Force instead. But do you believe you were wrong to come talk about it?'

'No, Cal, but you're getting off the point.'

'Sorry. But I'm just trying to say that he didn't necessarily mean for you to take it so seriously. And listen, Qui-Gon, if he did mean it...well, he cares about you, doesn't he? So you can change his mind.'

'That's what I thought. But tonight he didn't even seem to be listening to me, and I wonder if he was ever really listening, or just pretending to so that he could feed me his views. That's the worst thing at all. I feel like he was trying to make me some kind of...of...'

'Disciple?' Elana suggested, somewhat dryly. There was a silence while he looked at her, and then said heavily:

'Yes.'

'Maybe,' Elana drew his hand across the table to clasp it in both her own. 'But _I_ still think he cares about you, and even if he doesn't – listen to me – just because you loved him and looked up to him, even enjoyed the way he treated you, _it doesn't make you a bad person_. Everybody makes mistakes, no matter what the Masters tell us.'

Qui-Gon looked at her quizzically and then gave a little half-laugh.

'How did you even guess that I was worrying about that?' he asked.

_Feminine perception_, Elana thought, but didn't voice the answer. She smiled a little as the atmosphere began to lighten. Qui-Gon became a little awkward as he realised he was holding his gay best friend's hand, but took it in his stride. Elana shrugged a little and puffed out her breath to shake off the last of the sadness, and as she did so Mace Windu walked in through the door.

Elana and Qui-Gon froze, hand in hand. Mace's slumped, anxious posture as he entered the room made her want to run to him, but as he took in the scene his expression turned black. Qui-Gon rose, pulling his hand instinctively away even though he was thoroughly confused. She never had told him what her 'Master-problem' was. Mace turned on him, crushing him slowly under his gaze, and Elana felt her tenderness replaced with something she had not anticipated. Anger.

'Well, Qui-Gon, I suppose you had better be leaving now, but _we _– ' she shot Mace a warning look, which he ignored – 'hope it will turn out all right.'

'I'm sorry for the intrusion, Master,' Qui-Gon was muttering, his eyes on the ground.

'I think it is high time you were going home,' Mace said coldly.

'He was _already leaving_,' Elana snarled at him, and both men looked at her in surprise. Qui-Gon gave her an 'oh my Force, he doesn't think –?' look, and she let her hair screen her off from Mace and gave Qui the tiniest of eye-rolls.

'Night, Cal,' he said quickly, looking a tiny bit heartened by her gesture, and ducked through the door. Mace closed it in a way that implied slamming and turned to face her, breathing dangerously through his nose. Elana flicked back her hair in the most irritating way she could before speaking. Her previous nerves were gone, crushed beneath a thin veneer of hot, reckless courage.

'Master,' she said tightly, 'I understand that I broke the Code and that you are angry with me, but you have no right to take it out on my friends.'

'You are talking like a commoner,' Mace snapped. It took Elana a few seconds to work out what he even meant, and then she gave a splutter of outrage.

'Of course, Jedi aren't permitted to have _friends_, are they?' she said. 'Nothing that counts as _attachment_. But I will have you know that Qui-Gon is going through a really hard time at the moment –'

'A result of his excessive regard for his Master. You would both do well to draw a lesson in proper conduct from one another's behaviour, rather than encouraging one another.'

'Master, this is all off the real point,' she said, as evenly as she could. 'About what happened earlier –'

'I will not discuss it,' he said shortly, his expression hard and angry.

_Screw mature and sensible, what a B-_

Elana snapped, blurting out the words in a torrent of annoyance. 'You're going to hate me forever and a day now, aren't you?' she said furiously. 'Look, I'm sorry about... what I did, but if you want my honest opinion, you're overreacting. Aren't Jedi Council members meant to be above pointless rows anyway?

Mace didn't answer or look at her. He strode back through the door, actually slamming it this time. Elana flung herself down into a chair, trying to resist the urge to hurl her plate at the closing door. She was strongly tempted to march after Mace and scream at him, or kiss him, or chase him all the way around the temple with his own lightsaber, singeing him at intervals to keep him moving.

'Bloody shoulders, bloody typical male attitude, bloody purple lightsaber,' she muttered to herself, pacing up and down the kitchen. As long as she kept up her anger against him, she wouldn't have to feel the barrage of guilt and anxiety about her secret that was building at the corners of her mind.

* * *

Mace leant against the wall outside, covering his face with his hands. He could feel waves of anger pulsing through the door. At least Caleb wasn't taking it lying down, wasn't trying to blame himself. It was his fault, Mace's, and he knew it. He breathed deeply, trying to calm his thoughts, and instantly memories of the kiss swam to the surface of his mind. He groaned and banged his head against the wall. He wanted so badly to love Caleb, to guide him in the ways of the Force and be his mentor and his friend, but how could he do that when the boy provoked these reactions in him? Could he control himself? Could he repair the damage he had done when he pulled Caleb back for that second kiss? He must, for Caleb deserved so much more than a Master who was incapable of even teaching him one on one.

He waited until he judged his Padawan must be in bed before slipping back into the apartment. He suddenly felt bone-weary. Maybe if he slept on it, all this would just go away.

* * *

Elana was lying in bed, still wide awake. She heard her Master moving around in the next room, and it seemed to her that she could guess his miserable stance from the sound. All her anger vanished, replaced with a burning desire to go and comfort him. But the only method she could think of was to kiss him and tell him she loved him, and she somehow thought that would be counterproductive. Sighing deeply, she rolled over and tried to sleep.

But of course, her dreams were no better.

The next morning when she got up, there was no sign of Mace. It was only eight in the morning; he must be deliberately avoiding her. All last night's irritation came flooding back. _He is _so _immature! _She thought, stomping down the corridor to the dining hall. She shoved the door violently open, then went over to her friend's table.

'Hi Caleb.' Qui-Gon greeted her . He sounded a little better than he had done last night. Then he looked at her properly and his pale smile faded further. 'Force, you look awful. What's up?'

Elana flopped sulkily into her seat. 'My master is a jerk of the first water.' She half-regretted speaking – what was she going to tell them? But it was easier to let out her feelings in this way. The other conscripts groaned sympathetically, but then to her relief went back to their breakfasts without comment. Only Qui-Gon bothered to ask any more.

'Do you want me to help you beat him up?' he offered, and they laughed with the dry humour of two people who are in the same boat. Elana sighed.

'Thanks, but no thanks; that won't be necessary, Qui,' she yawned and stretched.

'You don't fancy my chances.'

'Not really, no. I'll just give him the silent treatment till he apologizes. It's what he's doing to me, so I reckon two can play at that game.' She began to eat. Qui-Gon shrugged and spooned himself some more porridge.

Just then, Mace strode past their table, apparently unaware that his Padawan was sitting there. Elana resisted the urge to glare at him, and instead concentrated her anger on her porridge.

' Erm... Cal? Is there any reason in particular that you're giving your food the evils?' Yannec asked cautiously.

'No reason,' Elana snapped, and began spooning up her porridge as if each mouthful had done her a great harm.

Qui-Gon and the rest of her friends looked at one another and shrugged.

* * *

A few days passed, and neither Elana nor Mace's mood improved.

Mace took out his anger on those he taught (except for Elana, whom he steadfastly avoided), and more than once she came across a Youngling in tears in the corridors. She and her friends made a point of cheering the children up when no Masters were around. It cheered Elana to see that the rest of the Conscripts seemed to have automatically taken her side, even though they had little idea of what was going on between her and her master. Qui-Gon had, with the aid of a few carefully gleaned bits of information from her, formed his own fairly accurate impression of the problem, but kept mercifully silent about it. He was still rather subdued after his falling out with Master Dooku, though the two seemed cordial whenever Elana saw them together,

'I'm sorry we've had so little time together recently,' he said. 'But my workload is light. Shall we go to the salle and put in some training?'

'Yes Master!' Caleb jumped up, all eagerness, and Mace relaxed somewhat. Maybe this was going to be easy after all. As they walked together to the training rooms he was reminded of all the reasons why he liked Caleb, simply as a person. The boy radiated warmth and enthusiasm. _I should have faced this days ago_, Mace thought. _He deserves a Master who can give him the close attention that he needs. Well. I'm here now._

In the salle he fetched them poles and began to instruct his Padawan in different postures and stances. He found to his satisfaction that he could touch and correct him without his mind straying from the task in hand, and Caleb too remained focussed and obedient. After a while they set the poles aside and Mace began to instruct Caleb in how to use the Force to perform various leaps and acrobatics, something they had only touched on before. He was pleased to find that his Padawan showed as much aptitude for it as for anything else. Mace led him through a combat exercise, a slow motion fight which allowed him time to consider the best response to each attack, and even to discuss it. That way the learner developed reflexes for how to react in battle.

'If I swing at you like this,' he said, sweeping his pole slowly forward, 'coming at you from above, you can raise your pole over your head and block quite easily...' Caleb executed the motion... 'but you see you are now bent backwards, very unbalanced. In time you will learn to anticipate such an attack through the Force and dodge it; here you can twist your pole, slide mine away, unbalance me, like that.' They both spun, suddenly facing the other way.

'This is sort of like dancing, isn't it?' Caleb said vaguely.

'Dancing?' Mace said sharply. His brow furrowed. What was this? 'Actually... that's a good analogy.' His voice resumed its teaching tone. 'When it comes to the footwork and balance, it is like a dance. Well done.'

Caleb was still looking either at him or through him, his expression speculative. Mace cleared his throat and sought to bring him back down to earth.

'Let's spar.'

Caleb immediately struck the guarding stance of form seven, centre of gravity low, weapon poised to either attack or defend.

'Tomorrow we will train with lightsabers,' Mace promised, and then attacked.

Caleb blocked the first few strikes with the pole held in front of his body, but the next found its mark on his ribs. He staggered with a gasp but managed to get his guard back up to block Mace's next blow. For a moment their weapons were locked together, then Mace swivelled his pole away and swiped towards Caleb's thighs. His Padawan jumped, using the Force to leap the pole, then pressed rapidly forward, wielding his stick like a lightsaber with both hands gripping near one end. He swung repeatedly towards Mace's sides, and Mace deflected the blows with a rapid swirling motion.

He was delighted by his Caleb' progress and decided to up his own game and challenge him further. He Force-leapt into the air and somersaulted over his Padawan's head, landing on his other side. Then he struck Caleb's guard down and lunged forwards in a stabbing motion. Caleb twisted wildly to one side, the thrust passing inches from his hip, and Mace was momentarily distracted by the smooth undulation of his body. Using the Force once again, Caleb rolled beneath the pole and swiped it out of his Master's hands with his own weapon. As he leapt forwards to attack Mace seized his pole so that they were grappling hand to hand and face to face.

Mace's hands were outside Caleb's on the stick and the laws of physics were on his side. Caleb's head was thrown back, his full lips parted with effort and his brow gleaming with sweat as he wrestled. Then, as Mace thrust the pole against his chest, he lurched forward and kissed his Master full on the mouth.

Mace's face twisted into a frown and he pulled away, wrenching the pole out of Caleb's hand and holding it like a barrier across his body.

'Control yourself, Padawan,' he ordered. 'I've told you about this.'

'No you haven't,' Caleb muttered sullenly, his eyes on the ground. 'You you haven't told me_ anything_.'

Mace sighed, his anger fading, and set the pole to one side. 'That is true,' he said gruffly. 'I didn't. Caleb... I apologise for making this so difficult for you – it's my problem, not yours...'

'No.' Caleb sounded so guilty, 'It's my fault, I started it –'

'Stop it, Caleb,' Mace said gently. Losing self-control for a moment, he drew the boy close again and kissed him softly. Caleb hesitated for a moment, then sighed and leaned his head against Mace's broad chest, letting himself be cradled. Finally Mace sighed and pushed him a little away, gripping his shoulders so he could look into his eyes.

'It is my fault,' he said firmly. 'I am your Master; it is my job, not yours, to lead you in the path of the Jedi. Caleb, there is no point in lying anymore –'

'What are you saying?' Caleb demanded, pulling away. 'You can't be thinking of going to the Council, you'll be expelled from the Order! Not over me, Master, barely anything has happened and I swear I can control myself –'

'Hush, Caleb, that's not what I meant,' Mace soothed, seizing his hands to hold him still. 'What I meant was that there is no point in lying to each other, even if we never pursue this any further. I see now what you truly feel for me, and you might as well know that I care for you.'

'You do, Master?' For all the anxiety on Caleb's face, Mace could see the happiness shining through.

'I do,' he said, and pulled Caleb to him once more.

'Master...' Caleb whispered through the kiss.

'You don't call me that,' Mace cut him off. 'Not while we're kissing.' He crushed his lips to Caleb's again.

A few seconds later, they drew apart. Elana took a few deep breaths, trying to clear her mind enough to talk. She had kissed Mace Windu, _kissed_ him, the action that until very recently she had barely dared to name, even in her head. Mace brushed a strong hand briefly across her cheekbone, then said:

'I think that's enough for today, Padawan.'

She was unsure whether he meant training or kissing, but either way he was probably right. She took a step back, composed herself and began to walk away from him towards the showers. She tried to regulate her pace so that she would not appear either to flee from him or to linger. She did not allow herself to look back.

A part of Mace's mind wanted to flick out and around, to recall and consider every second of what had passed and wonder what might come to pass in the future, in weeks, or days, or minutes, if he chose. But he reined it in, using his Jedi skills to remain in the present moment. He could still feel the ghostly imprint of Caleb's lips on his own, and a tiny flame of love sparkled in his breast. For now, that was enough.


	18. Changes

**Changes**

**Sorry for the loong gap between updates, a longer grovel/explanation is at the end... for now, just read and enjoy the chapter! Also entitled: Return of the Plot. Yes, you heard right, as of next chapter, plot will be seen once again in this story... and technically-not-slash, as true so delicately puts it, will be (mostly) absent. Okay? Now, **_**Bon Appetit! **_**Wait, no... that's for food, isn't it...?**

* * *

In a lot of ways, it was no different from being friends.

They would talk about things and banter and tease each other in the same way that she had always done with Behra or Qui-Gon; they never sat in silence over dinner now, and he no longer sternly reprimanded her for flippancy, merely gave an equally carefree retort. It was as though by breaking the code once, he had been released from some sort of invisible pressure – Elana realised she had never heard him laugh before they kissed.

The only difference between this and what she had with Behra or Qui-Gon was that she could put an arm around him if they were sitting on their sofa watching a holo-vid and he wouldn't look at her strangely; or lean backwards against his chest and listen to his heartbeat, and know that he cared for her too. It was like the best possible friendship, with just a spark of something more... something Elana knew she wanted, but would just be too weird – and too forbidden – to let become more than a spark.

'Caleb?'

'Who? – oh, him – uh, I mean, _yes, _Qui?' Caleb blinked out of her reverie to find Qui-Gon standing in front of her, a long-suffering look on his face.

'You're so weird, you know that? I just said your name and you... But anyway. It's sunny outside, and _Master Mace_ wants you to_ go out_ and do some _training_ with him,' Qui-Gon had mastered the art of saying everything even vaguely related to Mace in such a way that it would annoy or embarrass her, and did it so regularly that she had become almost desensitized, until the kiss. Now it brought on an instant, anxiety-induced bad mood.

'You're _not_ funny, you know that?'

'I don't know; I have my followers.'

'Sad, oppressed people who have never been outside the Temple in their lives, no doubt.'

'You've got that right,' Qui-Gon muttered with a grimace, and Elana reflected that he probably wouldn't have said that at the start of their acquaintance. It was as though the Conscripts had brought a whiff of something fresh and exciting from the outside world, and it was subtly affecting all the Padawans who had lived only by the rules of the temple. Mace had certainly been hit hard. Elana smiled a little and managed to relax. Of course Qui-Gon didn't know. He was just carrying on the way he always had.

She turned away and began to descend the Temple steps, humming slightly. Qui-Gon jogged after her and peered into her eyes.

'You look...too happy.'

'And what are YOU gonna do about it?' she demanded. Both of them glared for a moment and then cracked up laughing.

'Yep, much too happy,' Qui-Gon said decisively. 'Best not to enquire too closely, maybe. See ya.' He ran backwards up the stairs, waving, and Elana continued her passage into the temple grounds.

'Caleb.' Mace was all briskness and business when she met him, but he spared her a swift smile. It made little sparkles start in her stomach and go fizzing up her throat. By the Force, she loved him. Even if he could never know how much, even if she was steering herself into the most colossal trouble, right now just the feeling on its own made her happy.

'What are we doing today then, Master?' she asked.

'Tracking drill.'

'That sounds ominous.'

'It's a perfectly routine part of your training,' Mace returned, glancing sidelong at her with an expression that was both reproving and amused. 'It is necessary for you to be able to locate an enemy using the Force, you know, Caleb; there may come a time when you are without the right technology and have to.'

'Okay, okay. So what do I have to do?'

'I'm going to run into this forested area here, and then after five minutes, you follow me. You need to locate me using your senses and the Force – and remember, I'll be trying to find you too.'

Elana nodded. 'I'll keep that in mind.'

'Shall we begin, then?' said Mace, gesturing for her to enter the forest.

'Yes Master.'

He tutted impatiently. 'Honestly, Caleb, call me Mace,' he smiled.

Elana's brain fell to pieces, and for a few seconds all she could do was gaze at him. Then she came to her senses and headed off into the forest, still shaking her head to clear it.

It was a beautiful summer morning, and the tall, straight birch and hazel trees that had been planted to make this artificial forest were at their peak, sunlight dancing off their leaves, making undulating patterns of light on the carpet of dead ones that she kicked up underfoot. They were a bright, beautiful green, with the copper of the dead leaves accentuating them beautifully...

Darn, she was making too much noise! Elana cursed herself and began to move more carefully through the trees. It was hard not to get distracted here, though; these woods, even if they had been carefully engineered, were so natural and beautiful; they seemed a world away from the sleek, modern buildings that covered most of Corouscant. Here, she could almost believe she was back on Alderaan.

Behind her, a twig snapped.

Elana whirled around, just in time to see a figure step behind a tree. It wasn't her master, she could sense his Force signature anywhere... but who else would be here, and not want to be seen?

A Sith, maybe? No, this energy felt good, somehow – she knew how the presence of a Sith felt, and this person did not have that distinctive energy.

But she could feel a strong signature coming off them. Yes, they were Force-sensitive alright. But who could it be?

Elana cleared her throat and called into the silence. 'You don't have to hide, I won't do anything to you.'

No response, but she could glimpse the tiniest shift from behind the tree.

Elana stepped forward. 'You don't have to hide,' she repeated.

And then, slowly, gracefully almost, the person stepped from their hiding place. Elana gasped.

It was a girl.

A little older than her, probably about Qui-Gon's age, with strange, green and gold eyes and brown hair. Elana recognised the characteristic dark skin and eye pattern of the Noorian species, and noticed again the strong Force-signature.

But what the Hoth was this girl doing here?

_Maybe the same thing as _I'm_ doing here. _

'Don't worry, I'm not gonna to turn you in,' she said, putting on her most boyish attitude. She knew that she was skating on thin ice here... she had a feeling this girl wouldn't have a lot of trouble putting things together if she was given a lead. 'But what're you doing here?'

'I-I'm sorry,' the girl stammered. 'I was just... uh...' she stopped and stared at the ground.

Elana spoke again. 'What's your name?'

'T-tahl.'

'Why did you think it would be a good idea to come into our temple grounds?' Elana remembered that she was supposed to be an intolerant Jedi, and allowed a little harshness into her voice.

'I... I...' Tahl was silent for a moment, then burst out, 'I wanted to see what the temple was like. I want to know how it feels, to be – '

'To be part of it?' Elana suggested quietly.

Tahl looked up at her. 'Exactly. I... want to be a Jedi.' The girl suddenly clapped her hands over her mouth, wailing, 'oh Hoth! I didn't mean to say that! I didn't mean it! Please forgive my corrupt speaking – '

'Look, Tahl,' Elana cut her off. 'don't worry. Just leave here, and make sure you don't get seen again; because some other people may not be as understanding as I am. Seriously, it's for your own good. Women are strictly banned from entering the temple, you know.'

_Force, I am such a hypocrite. _

'I know,' Tahl sighed. 'But it's just so hard to stay away – oh, you wouldn't understand.'

The words came from Elana's mouth before she could put reason behind them. 'I understand better than you think, Tahl.'

She had made a slip and she knew it. Tahl was looking straight at her now, her distinctive striped eyes inquisitive. 'Are you one of the new conscripts?' she asked slowly, gazing at Elana as if trying to slot something together in her head.

'Yeah.' Elana kept her answer short, in case she gave herself away with a shaking voice.

Tahl said nothing more, just continued to stare at Elana with her head slightly on one side. Elana could see that she was on the very edge of comprehension, and in another few seconds...

_Kriff, what do I do?!_

Inspiration struck like a bolt of lightning, and she thanked the force briefly for this saving idea. She started forward with a gasp. 'Tahl, quick! Run!'

She looked puzzled. 'Why?'

'My Master is coming! I can feel him in the Force! _Hurry!_'

Tahl was already running in the direction she had come in. 'Thank you!'

'Go!'

Tahl nodded, and within a few seconds, she had disappeared through the trees.

Elana leant back against a hazel and sighed in relief.

Two hands came down hard on her shoulders.

Elana gave a high-pitched shriek and shot forwards, crossing ten feet in a single bound. She whipped round with her hands clamped over her mouth, eyes wide in shock. Mace was standing where she'd been a second before, his hands still raised, looking almost as shocked as she felt.

'M-master!' she choked out, her heart beating wildly in shock.

'Caleb.' His voice was shaken and severe. 'That is _not_ a normal noise. _Never_ make it again.'

_Oh Force_, Elana thought, _did I just scream like a girl?_

'D-don't sneak u-up on me like that!' she stammered, still trembling from shock.

'That was the object of the exercise, Caleb,' Mace said sternly. 'I don't understand how you can have failed to notice me approaching.'

Elana hung her head. 'I'm sorry, Master,' she said diplomatically. 'I allowed my mind to wander. I'll be paying more attention next time.'

The shadow of a smile appeared on her Master's face. 'I won't jump out on you again,' he said shortly. 'Let's go.'

* * *

She couldn't seem to concentrate.

Her mind was full of Tahl. She felt powerful pity for the girl, and seeing her had reminded her of the precariousness of her own situation. She felt as though she had been floating in a bubble of fantasy for the past few months, learning to fight, making friends, worrying about nothing more momentous than her crush on Mace. Somehow she had let herself believe that she was a real Jedi, a legitimate Jedi; she had let her guard down and now...now she was in trouble. What would happen if she got found out, which had to happen eventually? She didn't even know what the punishment would be – had anyone ever had the audacity to attempt such a thing? – but it was bound to be bad, and she realised that losing the people she'd grown close to, Qui-Gon and Mace, would be just as bad. Even not being able to see Yannec and the other Conscripts again would be painful, and those two...somehow she'd forgotten her situation, and allowed herself to love them, really love them, Qui-Gon the best friend she'd had since Behra and Mace...

...There was no good in calling it a crush any more. She was focussing on him alright as they trained, just not in a way that was any use to a Jedi. Sometimes she managed to catch him approaching, but she was sure he was letting her, and time after time he caught her unawares. He was true to his word, taking care not to startle her again, but every time he materialised beside her it increased her misery. How could he move so silently? How could he conceal his Force signature so that she could not detect so much as a ripple until he appeared at her side? He was amazing.

She sighed heavily, shaking her head at herself. He thought he liked her now, but it was nothing like what she felt for him, and what about tomorrow? How long could they keep this a secret; how long could it even last in the Temple? In a way she was growing to hate the Order. She wanted herself and Mace to be head over heels for one another like Behra with her sweethearts. The Temple was so cold, so sterile, even discouraging relationships like her friendship with Qui-Gon. And she missed Behra. She was between a rock and a hard place, alright. It would hurt her to leave the Temple, but how could she remain forever? She loved people in the outside world too, after all.

* * *

'Caleb, are you alright?' Mace asked as they ate their evening meal. He was not prone to such shows of consideration. Her black mood must really be showing.

Hadn't she learned yet to be more careful?

'I found today's exercises difficult,' she answered dully. 'The disciplines you are teaching me...I don't know. The learning seems to come much harder than it used to.'

'It's unsurprising,' Mace replied. 'Even without training one's Force-sensitivity develops, so of course you found the early training easy. There's bound to be a point where you reach the limits of your natural ability and begin to struggle, but all of us find it hard, and training overcomes it.' He paused. 'I actually thought you were doing very well.'

'Oh.' Elana blinked a bit. 'But you were letting me catch you.'

'Of course. Come, Caleb, you can't expect to be able to catch a Jedi Master out all in one day. But you were doing well. Better than I expected.'

'Really?'

Mace didn't answer that, just gave her a Look.

Elana toyed with her food as he rose to clear his plate away, watching him from under her lashes. He was so handsome...she allowed her mind to drift a little, worries floating away as she admired him. Olive skin, broad shoulders, his amazing skill with the Force and the occasional moments of caring and insecurity that shone out through his taciturn exterior...

Mace turned around and caught her eyes. There was a pause, in which she felt her face heating up to what felt like a temperature previously unmeasured by man, and then a sharp knock sounded on the door. She jumped a little, one hand knocking her water glass, but Mace caught it with the Force and pushed it back onto the table before it could do more than begin to teeter. There was a pause, and then he nodded, indicating that she should answer the door, as was customary for a Padawan learning the ways and faces of the Temple.

Elana crossed to the door, pacing sedately in her robes, and pressed the button in the frame. It hissed back to reveal the tall figure of Ki-Adi Mundi. Elana tensed instinctively. This Jedi had never liked her, she somehow sensed the fact. The Force, or a woman's intuition. She allowed herself a small smile. Men didn't know the half of it, sometimes.

'Good evening, Master,' she said demurely, bowing to hide her expression. 'Please come in.' She half-turned, un-blocking the door to allow him entrance, and called a little louder: 'Master, it is Master Mundi.'

'Thank you, Sango,' Ki-Adi said with a cursory nod, sweeping past her into the room. 'Master Windu?'

'Ki-Adi!' Mace's greeting was warm, and he moved forward to clasp the other Jedi by the hand. Elana thought she could see distain behind Ki-Adi's returning smile, and she felt a little fizz of anger. Did he think any less of her Master, just because he had been promoted young? Was he so weak that he let jealously blind him to Mace's worthiness as a Master? She attempted to control herself before the Masters felt her mood in the Force, and sat down carefully on the edge of a chair. Then she realised that, though there was nothing in the Code about it, she probably shouldn't have sat before the Masters did. She cursed inwardly, but stayed where she was.

'What brings you here, Ki?' Mace was asking.

'I bring a message from the Council.'

'Oh?' Mace said in measured tones. Elana could see the un-Jedi like tension beneath the single syllable. He was wondering why he hadn't knows sooner, and been in on whatever decision this was.

'On this occasion we thought it more proper to discuss without you, Windu,' Ki-Adi said with a tight smile. 'You see...it is about your Padawan.' Here he turned to nod to Elana, acknowledging her presence for the first time.

'Master?' she said. She tried to keep her expression neutral, but her hands were shaking.

'Yes. You see...' Ki-Adi paused, then said: 'Master Yoda considers that you may be ready to face the trials.'

All she could do was sit in stunned silence. Over Ki-Adi's shoulder, as though spotlighted, she could see Mace's face breaking into a broad, delighted smile, but she couldn't react to it.

'F-face the trials, Master?' she stammered.

'Yes, Caleb,' Ki-Adi nodded with a smile which, though superior, hinted at a little genuine warmth. 'Master Yoda wished to give you a short assessment, and to speak with you himself, and, if he considers you to be ready, you will face the Trials as soon as it can be organised.'

'This is an honour, Master,' Mace said, stepping forward. 'My Padawan and I are gratified...'

Elana tuned out and into her own thoughts as Mace began to make the customary thanks. Another step up, another knot binding her into this world. But it wasn't that which alarmed her so much as all this reference to Master Yoda. Why should he suddenly take an interest in her, of all the Padawans in the Temple? If she was ready a Council member could report it, or Mace could bring her forward and ask that she be considered for the trials. Yoda had no need to pick his own Padawans.

Mace clearly considered it an honour, and maybe he was right. Maybe she was so exceptional that Master Yoda himself had picked her out. But Elana was not a Force-sensitive for nothing, and she was uneasy.

Something had changed.

Something was closing.

Something was wrong.

**A/N: This is True Colours, little-known co-writer of this fic, writing to say SORRY for the long wait. Tokyo Mew Mew and the fact that the slashy aspects of this fic now disturb me are to blame. Sadly they were my idea, and Essence has been bullying me for God knows how long to get this chapter done. But finally I have done it. WOOT for half-term! No I have to go change out our guinea-pigs. The fun never ceases around here. Ciao!**

**  
Erm... did she mention that it's guinea-pig **_**singular**_**? The other one died today... may Whiskey rest in peace. We buried her this afternoon...  
ANYWAY. This is me, Izzy (aka Essence) again, by the way. I just wanted to say enormous thank-you's, glomps, cyber-cookies etc. to the people who have reviewed this fic! Special thank-you to **_**Gallica, **_**who is currently translating it into French for the readers over there... You go, girl! But all the rest of you are just as important! :D  
Au Revoir!  
Izzy **


	19. Mission and Betrayal

**Mission and Betrayal**

**A/N: This is your efteemed co-pilot True Colours speaking. For those of you who do not know or have forgotten, I am the co-writer of this fic and all the twisted slash-knots that it is currently tangled up in are my fault. Therefore Essence is forcing me to disentangle them. The trouble is that in the interim I have forgotten the plot. Ah, well. Sorry if this makes no sense. Maybe I'll go back through some time and write out the slash...though in my opinion some of the best scenes are the ones where they're doing katas, disturbing as they are...anyway, ciao and enjoy, guys!**

**Oh, and BTW...we don't own Star Wars.**

They walked along the corridor toward the council chamber, Ki-Adi leading the way, looking dignified as ever; Mace slightly behind him, practically bouncing as he walked; and Elana bringing up the rear, having even more trouble than usual keeping up with her master.

She was glad that both of the masters seemed too caught up in their own thoughts to focus on hers, which were currently focussed almost entirely on worrying. About her forbidden love, about her being a girl, and about that horrible feeling she couldn't quite block out, that something was wrong...

_Oh, Force, what am I going to do? _she moaned mentally. If she was in a room with the Council for as much as a minute with all these thoughts so apparent, she would be toast. Especially where Yoda was involved... and she had always thought that long-necked alien looked more than capable of hacking into someone's mind...

_Elana, chill! _Elana's steps faltered. It seemed that in her hour of need, her best friend's voice was back. _They're all obtuse guys. Just think about something else and you'll be fine. _

Somehow, that made Elana feel better. She sighed wishing for the first time in a while that she could be with Behra again...

... Mace looked backwards at her, with a surprised and rather hurt look on his face.

_Oh, Kriff! That came out wrong. _

Elana tried to slam a portcullis down over her thoughts, and succeeded with some difficulty. Concealing her Force signature wasn't something she'd practised very much.

'We're here,' Ki-Adi said suddenly, gesturing toward a nondescript sliding door set into the wall. Elana was surprised – she had expected the entrance to the council chamber to be more impressive. The tall-headed alien pushed the door open, and then swept inside.

'After you,' Mace said cordially to Elana, and she passed him through the door, craning forward for her first glimpse of the council chamber. She could feel his eyes on her back as she entered the chamber, and gritted her teeth to stop herself blushing.

She couldn't help but be astounded as she looked around the enormous room, standing wide-eyed in the doorway for a moment. She sensed Mace coming up behind her, and quickly moved further into the room, though she continued to gaze around.

It was a circular, high-ceilinged room, with smoothly curving walls that were made entirely of glass. On the ceiling was an elaborate geometric star, and a similar pattern was set into the shining floor. The chamber was stationed at the top of the Jedi Temple, so Elana was unsurprised to see a magnificent view of Corouscant surrounding them, sinking sun bathing the many buildings in orange light. She felt the old, now-familiar longing for green forests and fields, but couldn't deny that this was beautiful.

One of the Jedi masters coughed, and Elana realised her Master had already taken his seat and the rest of the council were looking at her expectantly. She flushed, ducking her head in embarrassment and moving to stand behind her Mace's chair.

Master Yoda was looking at her with understanding. 'An impressive room, this is,' he said kindly. 'Natural it is to want to look around.'

'Thank you, Master,' Elana said, her voice low – she could not seem to make it work at its usual volume.

'Equally impressive your progress as a Padawan has been,' Yoda continued. 'At this time, many Knights we need. Spoken together we have, and have decided that the trials you may face. Do you accept?'

Elana bowed her head. 'I do, Master.'

'Then let us begin,' Yoda said. 'Recite the seventh article of the Jedi Code.'

Elana blinked in surprise at the sudden attack, rallied herself and replied.

'_Jedi are the guardians of peace in the galaxy._

_Jedi use their powers to defend and to protect._

_Jedi respect all life, in any form._

_Jedi serve others rather than ruling over them, for the good of the galaxy._

_Jedi seek to improve themselves through knowledge and training.'_

'What do you think is the spirit of this law?' a Master on her left asked.

'By setting down our beliefs in so simple a form, the old Masters hoped to make it easier for us to draw a clear line between safeguarding peace and safeguarding our power in times of confusion, as now. In order to remain true to it we must constantly be mindful of our motives in this war, ensuring that we never overstep the boundary of defence.'

'Subtle the difference between a Jedi and a Sith is,' Yoda grunted. 'To us this difference explain.'

'The Jedi live in balance. Their strength comes from serenity; they draw on the Force. When an emotion is felt, it is understood, accepted and set aside. The Sith feed their emotions, encourage them, and use them to channel the Dark side. Their power is as strong as their feelings, and so they can appear overwhelming, but it is a brittle power. The Jedi cannot be swayed from their purpose by fear, anger or love.' She had felt love, but it had not swayed her from her purpose. Not yet. All the same, the words felt hollow as she uttered them.

'The incomplete form VII of lightsaber combat,' Mace said from behind her, 'involves channelling the emotions into the fight. Would you say that it is incompatible with the training of a Jedi?'

'No, Master. Rather I would say that it provides a useful outlet of emotion for those who cannot simply cast it away. A Sith glorifies his emotions; they carve his path to the Dark side and he is ruled by them. But in practicing form VII, it seems to me that one must grow to a closer understanding of one's feelings, accept them and then release them. Surely it is better to be familiar with our inner darkness than to smother it.'

'You speak boldly,' Ki Adi stated. 'What of yourself? Do you cast away your emotions?'

'I find that I cling to them, Master,' Elana answered truthfully. 'I have a family, and a home. I refuse to let them have any bearing on my decisions, I put them aside when I fight, but to let them go entirely...it is not something I am reconciled to yet.'

'Self-knowledge,' Yoda said. 'As yourself you suggested, far better than self-denial it is, and the first step which take you must.' There was a pause. 'Tell me more of your instruction under Master Windu.'

The questions came thick and fast. She felt as though she was taking part in a slow-motion lightsaber duel, blocking blaster shots from all sides. As a member of the Council, Mace was questioning her exactly as the others did, and throughout the interview he showed no mercy for either of them. Yoda's questions about her training were the worst. She skirted around the truth in a sweat of fear, weaving a delicate web of euphemisms and downright lies. She was thankful that they did not ask her any questions about her home life, but at the same time it chilled her. It was as though they were telling her to forget.

The interview ended, and the physical section of the trials began. Two of the Masters took her to the Salle and observed as she used the Force to move objects, perform acrobatics and navigate her way around the room. Then one of them duelled her, a hard, exhausting bout which was as shocking emotionally as physically. She hadn't realised before how comparatively young Mace was, how little in control of his feelings. He had been fierce, he had been taciturn, but he had always been _there_. The Master she fought now seemed removed from her, fighting with terrifying serenity. The other man stood, taking no notes, ever watchful. Then she was left in a side chamber while the Masters reconvened in the Council chamber. She guessed that they were giving Mace Windu a similar grilling to the one they'd given her. She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, sensing that the two Jedi who had tested her were playing back her trials in their minds for the others to see. She thought she looked hideously bad, though not too feminine, but a slow swell of approval filled the room. Then she was called back in, by a Master who noted her Force-eavesdropping position and gave her a reproving, but not altogether humourless, nod.

Their faces were inscrutable as she entered the room. She sneaked a glance at Mace. He was sitting with his chin in his hand, his fingers across his mouth in a position she knew well. Deep thought, tension. His eyes were down; he didn't seem to notice her looking.

'Speak with the Padawan alone I will,' Yoda said, breaking her reverie. 'Then decide together we shall.'

The other Masters withdrew, and Elana was left alone with Master Yoda. She was never comfortable in this situation; her pretence, at other times so solid she had almost come to believe it herself, seemed thin and transparent as a veil of silk. And Mace was another secret now to be kept from the all but omniscient Jedi Master.

He sat opposite her in the dim room, and for a while did not look at her or speak; he seemed only concerned with getting comfortable and easing his old bones, shifting and muttering in his chair. Finally he looked up to meet her eyes, and once again his overwhelming wisdom pinned her down.

'How feel you?' he asked.

'Afraid, Master.' She paused, swallowed. 'Afraid that I will not be able to do my duty, that I will fail to follow the Force...'_ Afraid that you will see how I have already failed, how I am not able, by birth and by law..._

'Good in moderation, these feelings are. Never should one be knighted with pride, for easy the path of a Jedi is not. But fear too much do not. A path to the Dark side, fear is. You know this?'

'Yes Master. Master Windu has instructed me thoroughly in the matter of the Code.'

'Good, good. A fine Master he makes for you.' Elana allowed herself a wry smile. 'Afraid of danger are you?'

'No Master. I have already faced danger for the sake of the Republic.'

'Know of your exploits I do,' Yoda nodded. Was there a double meaning in his words? 'Proved yourself you have, displayed courage, love, and understanding of the Force. A fine Knight you will become.' He paused, half smiling as if in approval, and looked her straight in the eye. She felt the Force freeze. A pause on which her world hung.

'Elana, make you a Jedi I cannot.'

She was not surprised. 'I know, Master,' she said softly. 'I am sorry for my deception.'

'Not for this reason do I deny you knightship, Elana.'

This was unexpected. She looked up sharply, trying to guess his meaning.

'An unforeseen occurrence there has been. An occurrence on your home planet of Aalderan.'

Elana took a slow breath of air that seemed suddenly as cold as snow. She felt creeping dread.

'Master?'

Yoda looked up at her. 'Invaded, your home planet has been.'

'Invaded!' Elana cried, then stopped, trying to speak calmly. 'Master, there has been no news –'

'A diplomatic envoy they are calling it. To your planet the leader of the Sith and a detachment of his followers have gone, with talk of negotiations and a treaty. Odd, some planets consider it. Hope that it heralds peace, others do.' Yoda paused. 'Elana, false it is. Blackmailing the ministers there they are, a treaty to force – but there is more, I fear. Suspect they want to use the computing power that Alderaan has, I do,' Yoda sighed, frowning. 'Only one other place has that amount of power – the archives, here.' The green alien paused, then continued talking, slower this time.

'Recently, broken into they were,' Elana's brow furrowed, trying to take in all the bad information. 'Told, few people were. Only yesterday, the registering of the present items was completed, and found out what was missing did I. Needed a great deal of power to operate once activated, this item did, and suppliable only by Aladeraan and here, that energy was.'

'And what was it that was taken?' Elana asked, not sure if she even wanted to know.

'The backup control for every droid system in the galaxy.'

Elana could not keep back a gasp this time. 'So...'

'If activated the system is, hopeless I fear all our soldiers will be.'

Elana stood, and began to pace She couldn't do this, she didn't have experience to do this, she would most certainly fail...'Master,' she said, half-begging, 'my place is here. I must complete my training, face the trials.'

'Wait the assignment will not!' Yoda's ears rose in insistence and his eyes widened. 'An important task this is.'

'Then send a Knight,' she implored him. 'Knight me and send me.'

He shook his head. 'You it must be, and in secret you must go. As a woman, and as the daughter of a member of the household, the palace you must enter. Know of this must no-one else, not even the other Knights.' He stared at her and repeated. '_Not even the other Knights_.'

Elana felt creeping horror as she gazed at the Master.

'Understand me I see you do. A fine Jedi you would make. Support you I do. But beside the point that is. Dispel all rumours of an assignment you must, in your fellows' minds no inkling of the truth must there be. In utter secrecy you must go.'

'I will have to renounce the order,' Elana rasped, her throat dry.

Yoda nodded. 'Make them believe you have left for good, to your own ends, you will. But an easy task this is not. Great faith in you your Master has. Break that faith, you must.'

So he knew about her and Mace too. She buried her head in her hands – after all, there was little point in trying to hide her despair from him – for a few seconds, then said in a low, dull voice: 'I will do as you wish, Master. I will tell Mace Windu that I renounce the order, that I am going home to my family. I will make him believe.'

'Then tell you your mission I will.

'Found out that Darth Plagueis – the Sith Lord – is hiding on Alderan I have. With him, the data files that control the droids are. If activated they are, no chance we will have – turn against us every droid will. Destroy him, and the files, you must.'

'But Master, How will I know how to find him, and how to access and destroy the files?' Elana protested. 'He could be anywhere on the planet!'

Yoda sighed. He seemed unwilling to answer her question, and she saw deep sympathy in his eyes. 'Go back to your family you must,' he answered quietly. 'Near them Plageus will be. For allowed the Sith to use Alderaan's technology... your father did.'

'_No!' _Elana gasped, unable to believe it. Her own father, a former Jedi, had joined the opposition? 'You can't be right!' she spoke fiercely, in denial.

Yoda did not even remonstrate her. 'Elana. Pretend to be an innocent handmaiden, you must. Spy on them, under your guise as a woman, you will.' Elana did not look at him, and when she spoke, her voice was dead,

'Then if I find my father to be guilty?'

'Up to you, that choice is. Force you to do the right thing, I cannot. But despair do not, Elana.'

She looked up, for the first time feeling a glimmer of hope. 'What do you mean?'

'Blackmailed, your father may have been; in effect, as a prisoner taken. A good man, your father is, and nothing we should assume. Strong and brave, he is, and may aid you. But if this mission you will not do, succeed the Dark Side will. Go will you, Elana?'

Elana knew what she must do. Even if it meant breaking her love's heart, going against her family, and even taking her father's life – she must complete this mission, for the good of the whole galaxy. Everything hung on this. She answered in one simple word:

'Yes.'

Yoda looked at her, pride showing in his eyes.

'This transmitter take.' He produced a slim remote control with two buttons, with a thin strap to go around her neck. 'When succeeded in locating the data and Darth Death you have, this button press. Troops I will prepare; engage the Sith they will when your signal they receive. If in grave danger you find yourself, this second button press. The receiver give to a trusted friend, and inform me he can, so that rescue you in secret I may. Understand do you?'

'If I succeed the first button summons the troops to finish the job, if I fail, I hit the panic button and you pull me out,' she recited.

'Good. Now, the transmitter take, and the emergency receiver.' Yoda produced a decorative silver pendant and snapped it shut around the transmitter, disguising it. Elana crossed the room and took the pendant from his hands, keeping her eyes down so that he would not see the hatred burning in them. Everything was ruined. _Is this not what I wanted_? She thought bitterly. _To become a Jedi? To sacrifice my own wishes for the sake of the common goo?. Be wary of attachment, they said, and they were right._ She clasped the locket round her neck, her fate sealed, and moved towards the door.

'Discuss with your Master and myself, the Council must,' Yoda said to her. 'Prepare yourself.'

'Yes Master.'

'Elana?'

'Master?'

Yoda seemed shrunk in upon himself, old and weary.

'Trust I have put in you. Fail the Republic do not. May the Force be with you.'

In that moment she could not bring herself to hate the Jedi Master. He understood and felt her pain, and more than that, he was on her side. She had done right to come to the Jedi temple. He believed so, and the knowledge was a little comfort to her. Outside in the waiting room she sat down, and began to steel herself for what she had to do.


	20. Departure, Return

**Chapter 20 – Departure, Return**

Elana sat on a hard, smooth chair in their apartment, twisting her hands in her lap and trying again and again to rehearse the words she would say to Mace. So far, she was coming up blank – she knew she must be forceful enough to convince her Master that she was really leaving, but to do that she would have to hurt him. Even the idea of doing that was unthinkable to her; it would be like hurting herself to see pain, inflicted by her, on his face. She knew she was capable of doing it, and what was more, she _had _to. That thought terrified her almost as much – if not more – than the prospect of the mission itself.

She knew she was running out of time – she had been sent back to her rooms while Mace talked with the rest of the council and decided on the final verdict. She was told it would take no more than ten minutes, and nine of those were already past. How ironic, that she had been told the short time in reassurance, when she would have welcomed every second left before Mace's return with open arms! In these nine minutes of torturous waiting, she had come no closer to wrapping her head around the task than she had at the start. But maybe, if she just had a few more minutes to contemplate, she could manage it – maybe if she tried meditating...

Just then, she felt her master's presence, drawing closer to her room. Her subconscious had become attuned very finely to his signature, and she cursed the fact now. She had to feel his elation, and know she would be crushing it in just a few moments time.

Mace would be entering the apartment in approximately ten seconds.

Elana briefly buried her face in her hands, screwing her eyes out in a desperate search for respite. _Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no..._

'Caleb!'

Elana shot upright, hauling her features into an expressionless mask.

The door flew open and Mace Windu came bounding into the room. He was smiling broadly, and the expression made him look ten years younger. Elana sat still and passive, gazing at him. Her face remained unmoved, a fragile mask hiding her inner turmoil. She stared unfalteringly into his face, trying to memorize his features, happy and smiling as they were now, that she might have something left to think happily of when she left.

'They are going to make you a Knight!' Mace cried jubilantly, planting himself in front of her. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, barely able to stand still. 'Oh, Caleb, I am so proud of you, and so relieved. I was afraid that my training would not suffice, but now you are to become a Jedi. I am eager to serve the Republic with you by my side –'

'I can't.'

'Don't be foolish, Caleb,' he smiled, taking her hands and pulling her to her feet. 'You'll complete the trials easily –'

'I can't do it, Master.'

For the first time, doubt and confusion crossed Mace's face. His smile faded. 'Caleb,' he pushed back Elana's hair from her face, looking into her eyes, brown into hazel. 'What are you talking about?'

Elana screwed her eyes tight shut, trying to say the words. She knew that if she didn't do it right now, she never would. She took a deep breath, and then tore herself from Mace's arms, her heart aching inside her. 'No, Master. I can't BE A JEDI!'

Another blow struck her centre as she saw the shock on his face. Storming into her room, she hurriedly crammed a few possessions into her bag. If she stayed for any longer than 5 minutes, she would end up telling him everything. She shoved her comlink and datapad into the bag, zipped it roughly shut, and strode out, slamming the door.

'Caleb, what in Hoth is going on?!' Mace demanded, catching her arm in a vice-like grip.

Her eyes half-blinded by tears, she stared up at him, managing to make her voice cold. 'I'm renouncing the order, Master. I never intended to come this far. I wanted to help with war – not get _knighted. _I've got more than I bargained for, and I have to leave now or never.' Her voice broke.

However, Mace wasn't going to give in without a fight. 'How can you do this, Caleb? To the order? To _me_?' Though he tried to make his voice angry, she could tell that he was hurting inside. This was far worse than anything she'd ever imagined.

'You didn't care about me! You just used me to impress the Council!' She hoped that this blow, partially true, would make him give up.

'Caleb!' Mace pulled her closer, gazing down into her today-hazel eyes. 'Maybe that was true, at the beginning. But now, it's only for you. Can't you see? I want you to succeed!'

'You just proved my point.' Elana stated coldly.

'Listen, please, Caleb! I can change,' he began to plead. 'I know that I've been a harsh teacher, but I'll try and make it easier for us. I... I love you!'

Elana could not bear it. Mace had said the words that she had dreamed of every night for months. And now, she had to break everything. Her eyes were blinded with contained tears, she looked at Mace. With one last effort, she summoned the words, thought them through, and with self-loathing spoke them.

'How, _Master_?' she hissed, putting all her emotion into the words, twisting it so that her voice dripped with false venom 'By favouring me over the other conscripts? Letting me win sparring matches? That's not going to change anything.

'Let me go. This life – _you – _aren't good enough for me.' The worst, most painful words she had ever spoken.

And in moment, Mace's face became a mask of grief, bitterness and anger. It was as though a light had been switched off inside him.

'You're like a _Sith_ to me.' He spat, looking at her in a way that made her shrink involuntarily back.

Elana's voice caught in her throat. 'I...'

She mustn't. It would ruin everything.

So instead, Elana just turned and ran from the room, punching the 'close' button as she went. As the door hissed shut, she heard a noise that sounded as if the person inside had just put their fist through a microwave, shattering the glass.

And her heart shattered with it.

* * *

Elana sprinted down the corridor, tears freely streaming down her cheeks now. She had almost reached the exit, when she heard pounding footsteps behind her, and a voice crying out her name.

'CALEB?!' It was Qui-Gon.

She turned to face him, and he began to speak. 'Cal, I think something's blown up in your apartment, I heard loads of crashing...' Then he took in her face, her bag, and put two and two together. 'Cal. What the _Hoth _happened?' he was looking her up and down with brotherly concern, and Elana realised she would have to tell yet another lie, hurt yet another person. She felt dead inside, all her powers of deception used up the first time round.

She sighed. 'I'm leaving, Qui-Gon. I've renounced the Order.' The words sounded flat now, as if she was reading them from a script. She tried to move through the exit, but suddenly, Qui-Gon was there, blocking her way.

'Don't give me that crap, Cal,' Qui-Gon snarled. 'I think I know you better than that. What really happened?'

She was about to tell him more lies, when suddenly she remembered Yoda's words. _The receiver give to a trusted friend..._

There was a way.

Elana took a deep breath. 'Qui-Gon.' She beckoned him closer, and lowered her voice. '_All is not as it seems. _No matter what you hear in the next few days, remember what I'm saying now.'

He looked puzzled, but motioned for her to continue.

'Now listen to me very carefully. I need you to take this receiver. Keep it with you _all the time. _But no one else must know. Yoda does already,' she continued, holding up her hand before her could ask the question. 'And I don't think anyone one else will suspect anything. Alright so far?'

Qui-Gon nodded solemnly. Elana took another breath, and continued.

'Now, this is the important part. If you get a signal from this – it'll just be a beeping – you have to tell Master Yoda immediately – no matter what you're doing, go straight to him. Just show him the transmitter, and he'll take it from there.'

'Yes,' Qui-Gon nodded. 'Caleb –'

'But Qui, before you do that...' Elana blurted. She knew that her next instruction was most definitely _not_ what Yoda had told her to do, and might even mean that nobody got to her in time to save her if she got into trouble, but she was tired of lying. This was more important. 'Before you do that, go to Master Windu. And tell him...that I love him, would you?'

'I'm not saying that!' Qui-Gon squawked. 'Spout your own mush!'

Elana gave a weak chuckle. 'I know, I would if I could. Just do it for me, would you, Qui-Gon?'

Slight amusement, then realisation, and then worry showed on the Padawan's face. 'Caleb,' he said slowly, 'Whatever you're doing... just try not to get yourself killed. I'll feel like a right twerp delivering your love speeches to Mace.'

Elana laughed affectionately, seeing the true concern under her friend's show. 'I'll try not to, Qui,' she whispered, 'And... thanks.' She reached up, and hugged him briefly. He punched her on the shoulder – not hard enough to hurt, and then she turned around, walking quickly away. She could feel his eyes on her back all the way down the corridor.

Elana turned the corner, and broke into a run. She hurried along a narrow passage, down a flight of stairs and slipped through one of the temple's side-exits. Best not to make a scene of her departure. Elana took one last look at the place she had come to call home over the past months, then turned on her heel and started running again. Another five minutes, and she was in the thick of the Corouscant crowds, another anonymous face in a sea of beings. A lone tear ran down her cheek as she realised that she had left the temple behind – possibly for forever.

* * *

Twelve hours later, Lady Elana Sango – though she was barely recognisable as such – stepped off a ship on Alderaan. She had purchased some relatively neutral, unisex clothes from a shop on Corouscant, tied her hair up in an elastic (it was almost past her chin now), and hired a small transport to take her home. As the craft circled down toward the planet, like a blue and green jewel in space, Elana couldn't help but give a small smile. It was nice to be home.

But as she entered the bay, Elana stopped short in slight surprise. Slight, because she had been expecting something like this, the Sith being there and all. But she still found herself surprised when she was confronted by an armed soldier standing just outside her ship.

'Who goes there?' he barked, lifting his gun defensively. Elana realised, with a jolt of recognition, that by some chance of fate this was the very captain she had spoken with on the night she had left.

'Sir,' she called, stepping forward, 'I request that you let me pass.'

'Who goes there?!' he repeated, confusion seeping into his voice.

'I wonder that you didn't recognize my voice, Captain,' Elana commented, stepping out of the shadow of the craft.

The guard squinted a moment, and then recognition dawned on his face. 'Lady Sango!' he exclaimed, tilting his light up to see her face. Elana could help but give a small smile – had she really changed that much?

Well, she supposed the hair and clothes had been the things that had identified her most before.

'Captain,' she said formally, slipping back into the old way of speaking. 'I believe I find my people in a state of political unrest?'

'My lady, the politicians are in the midst of negotiations with the Sith ambassadors. Passage around the city is strictly regulated; it is passed curfew now, and certainly nobody will be allowed into the palace,' he sounded apologetic, but quite firm.

'As a resident of the parliamentary buildings and a diplomatic visitor, I demand to be conducted to Parliament,' Elana insisted, drawing herself up to her full height. 'I wish to see my father. Surely they will grant me audience as a diplomatic visitor and daughter of the senator?'

The guard glanced left and right, then leaned close to her and whispered: 'There are no negotiations. I believe these so-called ambassadors are here to force a treaty to give them the strategical advantage they need to win this war, and how is the prime minister to refuse them? They have too much power. We are in a state of siege, my lady. You would do best to flee, now. I will say you never landed here...'

'Captain. I_ must_ see my father.'

He nodded slowly, licking his lips. '...I will try. I will conduct you to the houses of parliament. My lady, have you come to help us?'

Elana lowered her voice still further. 'Maybe. Captain, you must be very silent.'

'I will say nothing, my lady. The Sith have only contempt for us all, and they know our women are no fighters. They will not suspect.'

'Thank you. Maybe, when this is over, you will be remembered for your part in it.'

'Come this way.'

He led her around the back of the hangar to a small platform where a number of speeders stood waiting.

'Take the most public route,' she told him as he drove out of the port. 'Conceal nothing. I am a dignitary, arriving in state from my travels. We might as well play their game of diplomacy.'

He grinned slightly. 'Yes, my lady.'

She sat back in the seat and thought of how she had answered similarly: 'Yes Master,' when Mace Windu addressed her. How secure she had felt in that greeting, thought she would always be worthy to utter it! Up until now, she realised, she had been subconsciously thinking that once this was all over she would return to the temple, and somehow everything would be as it had been before. But now the realisation that she might never see Mace again crashed in upon her. And even if she could go back, if Yoda could make them accept her once again, he might never forgive her. How long had she thought she could conceal her gender anyway? She forced herself to remain calm, to still her emotions, as the speeder slowed at a checkpoint that had definitely not been there before. She noticed how silent the streets were, and a flicker of anger ran through her. What had been done to her planet?

'Halt! Who goes there?' a hooded figure called, stepping in front of the speeder.

'Captain of the guard, conducting Elana Sango to her father's residence,' the Captain responded. Elana noted how he fought to keep his voice steady, but she herself was not overly worried. She could tell that the hooded man was not Force-sensitive, and her lightsaber was just inches away from where her hands lay, folded innocently in her lap.

The hooded figure turned away and she heard him engage in a rapid conversation with two others, hidden in the shadow of the checkpoint. Then a short man walked forward.

'We will be happy to escort her ladyship to the Palace,' he said, his voice oily and courteous. 'Please wait while we fetch our vehicles.' He had a lilting Neimoidian accent. _Of course, _Elana thought, _the Trade federation will be allied with the Sith. I wonder how many followers they _do _have?_

They waited, the engine idling, while the Neimoidian and the third guard fetched speeders, and then the three vehicles continued along the road. Elana and the Captain were now flying with a Sith speeder on either side of them. It might look like an honourable escort, but Elana knew that in truth they were being guarded. As soon as she entered the Palace she would be effectively a prisoner of the Sith. Was her father a prisoner, she wondered, or a traitor? Only time would tell.

They stopped at the palace steps and the Neimoidian instantly hurried over to open her door and help her out. He and his companion flanked her, cutting her off from the Captain, and walked her up the steps. Another Neimoidian hurried down to meet them, and as soon as she was introduced ushered her in with an elaborate show of respect. As she stepped into the palace the captain was led away by the other two guards. Elana craned her neck round to see him; she was being propelled irresistibly into the palace.

'Goodnight, Captain, and thank you,' she called.

'In hope, lady,' he answered significantly before he was lost to her sight. She turned her head and entered the oppressive silence of the Palace.

The Neimoidian led her along several corridors; but it was different this time, as she knew every one of them. She ran over the layout of the palace in her mind, planning escape routes, wondering where the most likely hiding places for Sith data would be. They turned down the corridor to her father's study. Her guide – or guard – knocked, and then entered the room.

The study was exactly how she remembered it: dark, ornate, with red carpet and towering cases full of disks and programmes and his various oddities. Several shelves were full of handwritten plans and books, harder to copy and steal than a disk. At the far side of the study her father was kneeling, his hands outstretched. A shadowy figure stood over him. At their entrance the figure took a step away from her father, hurriedly stowing something inside his robes. On catching sight of her face, she saw his quickly stifled shock.

_So_, she thought savagely, _the Sith fear too._ She had not met this Sith when she was a Jedi, and felt a rush of relief – if it had been the other Sith, he might well have put two and two together and identified her.

'The Lady Elana Sango, my Lord,' the Neimoidian announced.

Her father's jaw dropped and he staggered to his feet, gasping:

'Elana!' A split second later his mind caught up with his body and he froze, glancing in terror at the figure beside him as though fearing remonstration. None came, however.

'Elana Sango?' a smooth, generic voice repeated. 'Come forward, my dear, let me look at you.'

As he spoke he himself stepped down into the light, lowering his hood in a solicitous gesture, and she saw him properly. He was humanoid in shape, tall, his face tattooed in red and black. She felt her spirit quail; his aura in the Force was both powerful and menacing. She had never felt the Dark side before. This was Darth Plagueis, Lord of the Sith, and those were the Sith markings on his face.

'A pleasure to meet you, my Lord,' she said softly.

'And to meet you, too, Elana Sango,' he returned, eyeing her closely. 'Yes, Sango, she is much like you in many respects.'

A jolt of fear ran through her. Had he sensed already that she too was a Jedi? She forced herself to remain calm. All was not lost yet; he might expect her to be Force sensitive and still not be wary of her, believing her to be untrained.

'Lady Sango, it is a pleasure to have you with us at the forming of our alliance with your people. Of course, now that your father and I have settled these negotiations, it is no surprise that you have returned. ' The Sith glanced enigmatically at her father.

'My Lord is most gracious,' her father said, transparent thankfulness in his voice.

'Indeed.' He eyed her for a moment. 'I shall leave you now, Sango, I am sure that you and your daughter will wish for some time together after your long separation.' He strode from the room, the Neimoidian following. Elana noticed his hand go to his pocket before the door closed.

'Elana!'

Suddenly her father's arms were around her; he hugged her as though he thought she might vanish at any second. 'Elana, my child, I –'

'What did you give him?' she asked, very low.

'They told me they had you, that they were holding you hostage...' He sank down onto a couch, hiding his face in his hands. He seemed to have aged ten years since she had last seen him. 'It was the codes,' he confessed. 'The codes they need for their droid scheme to work. They blackmailed me, they are holding the Prime Minister. I had no choice. Now I have you back, but it is too late.' He moaned into his hands.

'But father, you must have known where I had gone.'

'You took my lightsaber,' he agreed, with the shadow of a smile. 'But how was I to know whether you'd ever arrived at the Jedi temple?'

She crossed the room and knelt on the floor beside him. 'Father, I'm here to help,' she whispered. 'You need to tell me everything you know. Where do they keep the programmes?'

'There is a computer in the main defence suite,' he breathed. 'The USBs you saw me give him – they are activation codes; they allow him to access our processing power and use the droid system – though Force knows where he got that from.' Elana nodded – so far this was fitting in with what she knew. 'You must destroy both of them.'

'Both the USBs, right?'

'Sssh!' her father hissed. 'You are not supposed to know they exist!'

Elana fell silent.

'Now,' her father continued, 'listen very carefully. The two USB sticks are duplicates; they plug into the main computer,' Elana felt very tempted to zone out, as she had usually done when her father began talking about technological things, but knew that in this situation, she probably shouldn't. She sat up straight and tried to take in what he was saying. 'Both of them are needed to activate it, it's a security mechanism. And if you connect the sticks directly to each other, they will self-destruct. I told them I added it as a safety precaution, to prevent anyone else from using the power.'

'So I must find both USB sticks and connect them?'

'Yes. I don't know where he keeps them, but my guess is that he will have one on him at all times, and the other will be hidden. Don't forget that both are needed to activate the weapons system. Destroying one would buy us some time, though they could eventually obtain a duplicate from the other. Does anyone else know you are here?'

'Only the captain of the guard.'

'I will try to speak to him tonight, have him alert the troops. As soon as I know you have the USBs they can begin to try and regain control here.'

'Yes.' She paused, then pulled her cloak aside and produced her father's lightsaber. 'I might as well give this back to you,' she said. 'It's no use to me now.'

'_No use_? Elana, you...you will have to go up against Darth Plagueis!'

'I wouldn't be able to defeat him with a lightsaber any more than without,' Elana reasoned, 'and he must not guess that I am a Jedi. No, I'm afraid if I succeed in this it's going to be by a lot of sneaking around.'

Her father looked at her for a long minute, then slowly reached out and took the lightsaber. 'You're right,' he said, 'it'll give you away in a moment. But I'm not having you walking among all these villains without some kind of protection...here.'

He opened his desk and took out a sleek, silver blaster. It was a neat, compact pistol, the kind of weapon she'd had little time for when fencing was everything to her. Now, however, the sight of it was a blessed relief.

'Thank you,' she said, seizing it and tucking it into her robes. Her father grinned.

'I've always kept one in case of emergencies,' he nodded, 'but I think that your need is greater than mine this time.' He reached up and replaced the lightsaber in its glass case above his desk. The glass pane was glittery and new; of course, she'd smashed the old one.

'Goodnight, father,' she said demurely, and backed out of the room, her thoughts whirring frantically.

Somehow, she thought she wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight.

* * *

**A/N: Hey there, it's MEEEEE, the great Essence of Gold! I am very pleased with this chapter, and I hope you liked it too. I think I'm getting properly back into the story... now that we're out of that briar of disturbingness that True created (*cough* Slash! *Cough*). ^_^**

**Next chapter... the BIG BATTLE!!! Stay tuned! XD  
Izzy**


	21. The Battle Begins

**A/n: Hi, this is True Colours, finally commencing with the plot and action once again! I would like to take this opportunity to apologize if I haven't already done so for the disturbing turn this story took a while back. Ah well, it's plain sailing from here on in! XD **

**The Battle Begins**

Lying in her four-poster bed she couldn't sleep, and after a while she gave up trying, focussing instead on the patterns in the Force. She felt the heavy, sickening aura of the Sith lord somewhere beneath her; those must be his apartments. She tossed and turned, her stomach churning, trying to block it out. She was too keyed up and, admittedly, damn frightened, to relax. The room seemed so familiar, and yet there was something wrong, off. Her new Force-sensitivity added an unsettling dimension, and the old rooms no longer felt like home. They felt more like a trap, closing around her and cutting off her life as a Jedi with horrible finality.

Could she use the Force to find where the USB sticks were? She closed her eyes, feeling first towards the main control room. After a moment she could see it, a line drawing in the Force. The new computer was there, wreathed about with darkness, ticking over with malevolent, electronic life. When the memory sticks were plugged in, this computer would have the power to control every droid in the galaxy. She could even sense the two USB ports where the sticks with their deadly launch data would slot in. Elana smiled tightly. Now she knew where the hub of the Sith control was, and the route she would take to reach it.

Now to find the sticks themselves.

It was harder than it had ever been before to search with the Force, there was so much Dark around, sickening her with its heavy touch. But gradually the building began to open up to her. She felt little eddies and poolings of the Dark side, pockets of Sith presence lurking here and there about the palace. There was more than one Sith warrior there, she decided, and many enemy soldiers patrolling as well. Of course the majority of their armed forces were composed of droids, here and on every planet, waiting to be activated. She searched for the sticks until she thought she felt them, one carried in the pocket of a being so shrouded in darkness she couldn't bear to examine him for long, and the other a rough location somewhere in the part of the palace where the Sith presence was strongest. Darth Plagueis must have hidden it in his own apartments. Fun.

She was so dead.

* * *

Tired and pale, she rose in the early hours of the morning when it became plain that she was not going to sleep any more. By and by one of her old handmaidens came to say that the politicians were at breakfast and her presence was requested. She pleaded a bad night's sleep and took breakfast in her room, but she knew she would be required to attend the midday meal, as all the politicians would be there, expecting to see Lady Sango after her return. She attempted to pull herself together, donning sumptuous robes and styling her hair elaborately, as befitted the hostess of important diplomats, but it was with a quaking heart that she entered the long dining hall.

A uniformed alien instantly appeared to escort her to her seat. He was most deferential, but she sensed the antagonism coming off him and knew he was one of the enemy. The long table was lined with officials: the politicians she'd grown up amongst, and other unfamiliar faces, which must be the Sith 'ambassadors.' There were army uniforms, state robes, and two of them she sensed to be actual Dark lords. Her eyes turned to the head of the table. The Prime Minister sat there, grey-haired, flinching at small sounds, with Darth Plagueis on his right. The Sith lord was eating delicately and yet with gusto. The sight of seeing him do something so ordinary shook her, and inexplicably she was reminded once again of Mace, shedding his Master persona and shovelling in hearty meals at the end of gruelling training sessions. She stared down at her plate, sure she must have visibly flinched.

'My Lady, I heard you were unwell this morning?' Plagueis enquired, his goblet raised in one hand.

'Not unwell, merely tired,' she answered. 'I am having a little trouble adjusting to the time difference after my absence.'

'Time difference...what system was it, where you were staying? How long were the days?' He paused. 'I would be interested to hear an account of your exploits these past months; I am sure you spent the time productively?'

To an outsider it might have seemed like a rather clumsy dignitary attempting to bring the conversation to a level the young Lady could understand, but this line of questioning was making her blood run cold.

'We women have our own rites to perform, my Lord,' she said, lowering her eyes. 'Forgive me if I do not elaborate.'

'Of course,' he said delicately, and turned back to one of his army officers. Elana met her father's eyes across the table. His hand was clenched so tightly on his goblet that soon the glass must shatter. _Father,_ she wanted to say,_ be calm, conceal_._ Be mindful of your feelings. _But it would have been hypocritical; she herself felt as though she might throw up.

The meal seemed to drag on endlessly, filled with formalities that everyone must surely know were false. Finally, though, the officials rose, and began to depart, Plagueis leading the way. Out in the hall, Elana breathed in deeply a few times, then stretched out into the Force.

_Father._

She had never tried this before, but it worked.

_Elana?_

_I'm going after the USB sticks now. There's no point waiting any longer, he suspects. Tell the Captain and his men to be ready. I can contact the Jedi once I have the Sith data, but our men must engage the Sith soldiers until they come._

_I will prepare our troops. May the Force be with you._

_And with you too, Father._

It was clear; Plagueis suspected too much. She must act now or she might never get another chance.

* * *

Elana walked quickly back to her room and changed into a loose crimson robe with leggings and a shirt underneath; the kind of clothes she had worn to fence for ease of movement – she would need it. Then she stuck her head out of the door, looking to the left and right. The hallway was deserted; but then, who would venture forth when Sith prowled the corridors?

She crept forward, feeling with the Force. Plageuis's apartments were empty. He was, as far as she could tell, with the Prime Minister. The other Sith was with him. _Hah_. At least one of their precious sticks was unguarded.

She had reached the riches area of the palace. It was the gloomiest part, evidently designed to intimidate thieves; well, it was working. The deep shadows were giving her the jitters. She reached a huge set of doors, muttered a prayer to whatever Force or god might be listening, and swung them open.

She was in a three-room suite, a lounge with two doors which she knew would lead to a bedroom and study. She moved forwards, crouching, running her hands across the floor and over every surface she came to, trying to sense where the USB stick might be.

Nothing. It was all clean. She moved on to the study.

She was horribly on edge, every nerve jangling. Why her? Couldn't she just bolt? As a harmless lady of the court, she would probably survive this war...but no. She had to keep looking. She realised that something small was tugging at her attention. She turned and saw a small wooden writing desk in the corner, with a stack of drawers down one side. Surely nowhere so obvious...?

Her stomach flipping with a desperate pang of hope, she dashed to the desk and ripped open the top drawer.

_Patiently, Elana, slowly..._

_Look, Mace or Behra or whoever you are, I don't have _time _to be patient. I am kriffing frightened, just let me get out of here. _

Nothing in the drawer. She tried the one below it.

Documents, hard copies of city finances.

A stack of science papers.

Trinkets, keepsakes, writing implements. Elana finished searching the last drawer and pushed the hair back from her face, baffled.

_A false bottom, Elana?_

She jumped as though electrocuted. It couldn't be so simple! She knocked on the bottom of the drawer, and it gave a hollow noise. Her fingers searched, finding a little gap in the wood, fitting through, lifting.

She squeezed her eyes shut. _Please, please, please, let it be in this drawer. _The bottom of the drawer lifted away, revealing a cavity that was empty except for a small orange stick. Elana reached in and snatched it up.

_YES!_

A USB stick, half of the Sith lord's precious data.

She had it, in her hand.

It was harmless enough looking object, orange, a little longer than similar USB sticks she had used. She pulled off the lid, exposing the silver USB plug. She could grind it under her heel now, render the device inoperable, but she expected there would still be some way of salvaging the data out of it. She would hold out to get the other one, so that she could plug them together and destroy the information totally. Though it would take nothing short of a miracle to steal it out of the Sith lord's pocket –

'Lady Sango, what are you doing in my apartments?'

Darth Plagueis's voice came from the door behind her. _How _had she not sensed his presence? Calmly and patiently, the voices had said. Well, it was too late. He was here now, alright.

'Stand up,' he ordered.

She obeyed, rising slowly to her feet and turning to face him. As she did so she caught sight of a glass of water sitting on the desk.

'Do you have something of mine? Hand it –'

She stuck out her hand, dangling the USB over the glass.

'Yes,' she answered, sticking out her chin. 'Yes I do. What are you going to do about it?'

Would water even damage the USB? Darth Plagueis certainly seemed to think so. His face had gone completely rigid. He tensed as if to rush at her, but she snatched up the glass and held it to her chest, the USB just millimetres from the surface.

'Stay away!'

He stood perfectly still, his eyes fixed on the glass. Elana began to edge sideways towards the window. As she moved, he circled to stay opposite her. Finally she stopped, her eyes darting between the window and him, her hands clenched tightly on the USB lest he should Force-rip it from her.

'That is farther than I would care to fall,' Plagueis remarked, glancing towards the window as well. They were three stories up, looking out onto a large, stone-paved courtyard. 'Come, lady Sango, you have nowhere to run...'

Footsteps sounded in the hallway outside, and a voice called:

'My Lord?'

Seizing upon the instant's distraction, Elana Force-pushed the glass of water straight into Plagueis's face. In the same second she dived sideways through the closed window, using the Force again to protect herself from the worst of the glass, and to soften her fall a little. If she hadn't been able to do that, she would have certainly broken both legs at the very least. And Plagueis hadn't known that she was force sensitive.

She shook her head. He hadn't suspected a thing! _He hadn't suspected a thing!_

'You there!'

An enemy soldier had come running at the crash. At the sight of a kneeling woman he hesitated, holding his fire.

'Get up! Raise your hands –'

Elana whipped the blaster from behind her back and shot him with two stun bolts. He flew sprawling back across the courtyard. Before he landed she was on her feet, dashing towards the door he'd come out of. She had to get to the Sith computer and destroy it. And she had to get help. She groped for the pendant Yoda had given her as she ran, flicked it open and mashed both buttons. The one that said she was in danger, and the one that said she had located the data. Hopefully Republican troops would arrive to back up the palace guard, who surely couldn't be strong enough to engage the Sith's soldiers for long on their own. And hopefully someone would find her before Plagueis could reclaim his USB and slaughter her painfully in the process.

* * *

Qui-Gon was sitting cross-legged among his blankets, unable to sleep. He was half-meditating, half-thinking, about nothing in particular. He still disliked long periods of meditation, but tonight the presence of the Force was comforting.

He was with a group of twenty or so newly initiated Knights, camped out on the floor in a starship orbiting above Alderan. Now and then an older Knight came pacing by, checking on them and on the Republican troops who were lodged nearby. Sometimes he called out to them, and exchanged a few words of conversation, sometimes he stayed silent, not wanting to hear the way they reassured him, as though he were a frightened child. Which he was, but still.

Caleb had been in one battle, and he'd said it wasn't so bad. It was the waiting that was the worst, he said, and Qui-Gon could see where he was coming from. Everything was so quiet, so superficially peaceful, but there was a constant gnawing of nerves in his stomach. One of his fellow knights turned over, murmuring slightly in his sleep, and Qui-Gon wanted to scream. Anything, movement or blood or speech or death, to break this agonising trickling of time!

He wondered if he could wake one of the others, and talk a bit. He sighed. If Caleb had been here he would probably have jumped on the younger boy to wake him and then sat around whispering irreverently about the Masters and the Code. Caleb, unlike the Jedi he had trained with since birth, seemed more able to empathise with Qui-Gon's doubt about the Code, his feeling that their rules were blinding them to the true will of the Force. But about attachment they were probably right. As far as Qui-Gon could make out, Caleb had fled back home after some kind of fight with his Master. Qui-Gon slammed a fist into his blankets. The truth was he was angry with his friend. Why did he have to nurse this crush on Mace Windu and then blow a trivial issue way out of proportion?

Anything to break the stillness…

Somewhere among his gear a rapid, insistent beeping began. His first impulse was to groan at this new annoyance, but the next second his mind caught up and he was leaping across to his bag and rummaging in it.

Caleb!

He pulled out the small receiver his friend had given him. It was bleeping frantically, a red light flashing on and off in time to the noise.

'_If you get a signal from this – it'll just be a beeping – you have to tell Master Yoda immediately – no matter what you're doing, go straight to him. But before you do that, go to Master Windu. And tell him...that I love him, would you?'_

Qui-Gon automatically clicked the device, killing the beeping. Then he sat frozen. Was his friend in danger? What the hell was going on? And then...suddenly he felt his blood turn to ice and the bottom drop out of his stomach.

Did this mean he had to deliver Cal's soppy love messages to Master Windu?

Holy kriff, it did.

'Stupid bloody suicidal bloody sod,' he muttered to himself, staggering upright and tripping over his blanket. He was probably only making things worse for both of them by going to Mace first. From Caleb's instructions, it had sounded as though he was supposed to tell Qui-Gon to go straight to Yoda, and had only added on the bit about Mace afterwards. So Caleb was probably facing who-knew-what while more time got wasted, and he...well, judging by the expression on the Master's face since Caleb had left, Mace was probably going to kill him.

Gritting his teeth, Qui-Gon slipped quietly from the room and down a long corridor filled lit with low strip lighting and filled with the hum of engines. He jogged along it until he came to the passage with the Masters' rooms.

He knocked on the right door and, before the Master could yell 'go away!' pushed it open.

The room was fully lit. Mace was standing, fully dressed, with open foot up on a chair, tying the laces of his boot. His hands were frozen in the middle of their task, and his brows were locked in an accusing stare.

Finding him in this attitude knocked Qui-Gon's mission straight out of his head.

'Master? What's going on?' he blurted.

'We have received the signal to begin with the attack,' Mace replied, yanking sharply on his laces, 'as you would know, Jinn, if you had been where you were supposed to be when Master Mundi went to wake your unit. I suggest you return at once.'

'But Master, I came to tell you something important.'

'Well, what is it? I haven't got time to waste.'

'It's about your Padawan –'

Mace straightened up slowly, his glower cutting Qui-Gon off.

'I have no Padawan,' he said.

'Don't be childish!' Qui-Gon snapped.

Mace gaped at him in amazement.

'Before he left, Caleb gave me this,' Qui-Gon ploughed on, sticking out his hand. The receiver dangled from his fist. 'It is transmitting what I guess is a distress signal, though he wasn't specific about what it was for. He told me to take it to Master Yoda if it went off, but before that to come to you and tell you – and I _quote – _that he loves you.'

Mace had gone completely still.

'What was that?' he asked in a voice of deliberate calm.

'Oh, stuff this for a game of soldiers!' Qui-Gon cried in exasperation. 'Look, I am _not _going to repeat it!'

'I see.' Mace seemed to be hovering between two decisions, his brow furrowed. Suddenly his head snapped up.

'Jinn, give me that transmitter. I will take care of this. Go to the Council and tell them where I have gone, please.'

'But Master, Caleb said to take it to Master Yoda –'

'Caleb may be in danger as we speak.' Mace flung on his cloak and grabbed his lightsaber. 'If Master Yoda needs to know either of our positions, he can contact me on my commlink at any time. There's no time to waste, Qui-Gon; hurry!'

'Master, shouldn't you wait for the rest of our soldiers to mobilise?'

'Like I said, there's no time to waste. I can take care of myself, young one.' He gave a wry grin. 'If you're so worried, go and tell Master Yoda where I'm going.'

With a swirl of brown cloak, he was gone.

Qui-Gon kicked the bedpost and cursed.

* * *

**A/N: Dun Dun !!!!!!!**

**To be continued...**


	22. Into the Fray

**Chapter 19 – Into the Fray**

**A/N: Lots of fun bad-guy POV in this chapter. Here comes the climax!**

_Father,_ Elana thought.

_My daughter?_

_I've got one of the sticks. But Darth Plagueis caught me at it. Tell our soldiers to engage the Sith troops now. I've called the Jedi, they're on their way._ She hesitated for a moment. _I'm going after the other one._

_Elana!?!_

_Love you,_ she thought quickly, and then pulled her mind away and glanced around herself. The whole place was eerily quiet. Somewhere in the palace the Sith and Alderan troops must be mobilising, readying to attack one another, but up here in the residential part of the building all was still calm. She looked over her shoulder, back towards the window she had smashed. Where was the Sith lord? She had to get away from here, before he found her. Get to the control room, destroy his main computer, and then...what? Fight him for the other memory stick?

Maybe she shouldn't have been so hasty in cutting herself off from her father. But she knew that there was no way she could stand to let him duel the Sith. She would have to hope that some other Jedi arrived to help her in time.

She took a deep breath and began to walk. 

* * *

Mace legged it through the corridors, treading on sleeping people's fingers, cursing as he stumbled over sleeping bags and lightsabers. Around him he could hear the senior Jedi receiving the same communication again and again, striding quickly to rouse their allocated troops, preparing for the battle to come.

However, he paid all of this little heed. The troops would move quickly, but not as quickly as he could by himself. He had to get to Caleb. If he could just find him, he could take care of them both until the rest of the armada arrived.

He hoped.

He headed straight for his own shuttle where it was docked in a small hangar. He vaulted into it and pressed several buttons in quick succession. There was a hiss as the roof shut over him and the oxygen supply activated.

He grabbed a comlink and hastily keyed in the codes to contact the control unit. There was a crackle of static, and then a male voice came through the speakers. 'Nine-oh-four, do you have permission for emergency departure?'

'Yes, I'm on important Jedi business,' he said impatiently.

There was a pause, then the voice came again. 'We're not getting any affirmation from communications. What business exactly do you have to attend to?'

_Sod this. _The last thing Mace needed was to have to explain the whole situation to some dozy control worker. So he just closed his eyes, reached out with the Force, and said. 'This is an emergency. I have full permission for emergency lift-off.'

Silence, while Mace prayed that this would work. Then, 'Yes, this is an emergency. You have full permission for emergency lift-off.'

'Thank you.' Mace gunned the accelerator and his ship rose upward and toward the exit, which opened for him into the blackness of space. Hanging like a jewel in the middle of it was Alderaan, turning slowly on its axis. He sped up, shooting out of space and toward the planet, his computer guiding him to the capital.

The receiver he had taken from Qui-Gon was sitting on the dash-board beside him, bleeping its alarm. He reached out with the Force and muted it, plunging himself into complete silence apart from his own breathing. Its little red light continued to flash on and off, a little faster than a resting heartbeat. He felt as though he were completely alone in the universe; just himself, the planet beneath him and the blink of red in the corner of his vision. Blinking like the panic at the edge of his mind.

He made the jump to hyperspace, and then it was only a few minutes before the planet was huge, the spangled lights on its surface filling his view. He plunged forward, zooming in on one light, which fragmented, spread and became an entire city, with a magnificent palace rising at its centre. The people of Alderan knew a thing or two about style, you had to give them that. And what in the world was Caleb doing in a place like this. Mace was beginning to suspect that there was more to this than met the eye, and that the boy's angry flight had just been a show. Qui-Gon's message had come at almost the same time as the call to arms. Had Caleb been on some kind of undercover mission?

_Really,_ Mace thought, _what will the Council think of next?_

Then he was landing, and there was no more time to speculate.

He vaulted out of the cockpit, shedding his long outer robe as he went, and sprinted across the landing stage towards the palace. The place was humming with activity: he could sense confusion, fear and the beginnings of fighting from within. He ducked quickly out of sight as a squad of men came running out of the main hangar, then noted that they were dressed in the livery of the Palace guard. So things were already in motion here. He hoped that the army would get here soon.

He wrenched open the nearest door and found himself tumbling into the midst of a gun battle. Three members of the guard were crouched in the cover of doorways, holding the corridor against a cluster of battle droids, the same type he and Caleb had fought on Bestine. They were unintelligent killing machines; in the time it had taken their computers to register his arrival, he had ignited his lightsaber and was piling into them from behind. Within seconds all that was left of them was a heap of scrap metal.

'What the _hell_ –' one of the guards stuttered, rising.

'Look, he's a Jedi! The Republic are here!' another yelled. The men raised a ragged cheer, but Mace was running again before they could hold him up, ducking down another passage, following the tracker in his hand. He was close now, he could feel it in the Force as well...but then another presence stopped him dead in his tracks.

Dark, malevolent and horribly full of purpose. He recognised the presence of a Sith lord, and his proper mission came crashing back down on him. He was here to tackle the Sith, and this one clearly had some plan that needed immediate foiling.

A moment of indecision, and then Mace was sprinting in a different direction, his lightsaber at the ready. Caleb was just going to have to wait.

* * *

Plagueis slipped through the door of the control room and closed it behind him, sealing himself in a hot dimness full of blinking lights. Only one soldier had tried to stop him: a young idiot with a blaster, easily disposed of. He twisted the lock, sealing the room so that no-one but a Force-sensitive would be able to enter after him, and then made his way to the computer he had had installed. He switched it on, began to input the necessary passwords and codes, and finally plugged in the USB stick which he had kept on his person at all times. Then he sat back and smiled.

He would not play hide and seek through the building for the Sango brat. She knew the building well, and there was always a chance that she might slip past him and gain access to this room before he could stop her. No, he would wait, and she would bring his other USB stick right to him.

He knew he was playing a dangerous game. Many people would have decided to flee the moment the girl had stolen the first USB stick. But not him. There was still everything to be salvaged out of this, with a little nerve and patience. In the corridors outside his troops and droids were engaging the Palace guard: two fairly well-matched forces, he knew. But soon Elana Sango would be here, intending to destroy his precious computer, and with the USB stick he knew she had not destroyed in her pocket, and then it would not matter how well matched the forces were. He would kill the girl, claim his USB, and then he would have access to every droid in the galaxy! And if anything untoward should happen, or if the girl should decide to destroy the stick she had, instead of coming to try and finish him off...well, in that case he could easily escape. His apprentice was waiting with a speeder at the ready, and together they could disappear.

The door clicked open.

Swiftly Plagueis stood, igniting his lightsaber. He was puzzled by the strength of the aura he sensed, much stronger than the girl's should be...unless Shan Sango had decided to come and fight him...

He flicked out a hand, slamming the door once more, and peered forward in the gloom. He could make out a hulking figure through the gloom, heavier-set than either Sango or his daughter...and then a purple blade flicked on, illuminating a face that Plagueis had never seen in his life before now.

'Jedi,' he hissed, his awareness spinning out through the corridors. He should have expected this. How had the Order found where he was? That repulsive girl...he felt with the Force, trying to sense where this man's comrades might be, but felt nothing. Only his own men and the Palace guard. He peered more closely and saw that after all this Knight was not so very old. Scarcely a line to his face, and eyes as wide and intense as those of a nervous horse.

'You're alone,' he said, letting the satisfaction colour his voice.

'What have you done with my Padawan?' the other demanded.

Plagueis's whole body relaxed, and he let out a sigh which ended in a soft laugh. Partly because the tenor of the voice had convinced him that this was a young man, inexperienced and easily worked upon. And partly because his question confirmed what Plagueis had only suspected before. He hadn't known whether Elana Sango's Force-leap out of the window had shown the full extent of her ability, a trick taught to her in one night by her father, or whether she had more training. And now he was certain. Padawan, eh? A rule bent by the order, or a little deception on the part of the girl?

This was going to be fun.

'Calm yourself, Jedi,' he soothed. 'I haven't damaged your pet...he's quite safe. For now.'

'Where is he?' the Jedi growled again. He had begun to circle, his strange purple blade held at the ready.

'Running,' Plagueis answered simply. Another piece of bluff had paid off. Deception it was. 'Running, and with hardly anywhere left to go.'

The Jedi struck. Waves off a rock. Plagueis parried his first stroke easily, but all the same he saw at once that this would not be an opponent to toy with. Not immediately, anyway. He could play him carefully, wear him down.

He could always tell these things at the first blow.

'What are you talking about?' the Jedi demanded. Fool. He was talking back. Didn't he see that the Sith's words were designed to eat into his mind and defeat him from within?

'Your Padawan is running, I said,' Plagueis returned, driving forward now. The Jedi was strong. He would need to be tired. Plagueis let anger and hate take a back seat for now and began to fight with something a little like Form II, a style that forced his opponent to expend more energy than himself. Subtly, of course, so that he would not notice it at first. 'Running, ducking, dodging and hiding. From you.'

'From –' the Jedi began, but Plagueis jammed their blades together, and he had to stop talking in order to push. Their arms were forced up above their heads, and they strained, eye to eye.

'I know what you are going to say,' Plagueis hissed into his face. 'Your Padawan is all for you, you have taught him well, the two of you will fight side by side. But he has already betrayed you more completely than you can imagine.'

The Jedi wrenched himself free, and Plagueis saw him flinch. It seemed that his words, though they could not possibly be understood as he had intended them, had struck a nerve. What a coincidence, that he should set out with the information he knew, to sow seeds of doubt, and find himself wounding in a different area without even intending to...

The luck of the Sith. Plagueis smiled, and let the dark bloodlust take him. This was going to be an easy fight, and made all the more satisfying by his opponent's physical skill.

* * *

As Elana ran through the corridors of the palace, she could tell that she was definitely getting closer to the battle. Either that or the fight was getting bigger, or both. Distant blaster fire shook the walls, and twice she had to duck into a doorway as a squadron of the palace guard ran past. Then she rounded a corner and almost crashed into a Sith battle bot.

She was ready with her pistol, but the low-power bolts weren't nearly as effective on it as they had been on the unprotected alien she had stunned. Its circuits fizzed angrily for a moment, and then it turned its guns on her. At the same time a built-in siren began to whoop. Cursing under her breath, Elana turned and ran. She ducked round a corner, crashed through a half-open door, and emerged into a corridor that was full of choking dust.

The battle bot was still chasing her. Quickly she hit a button, sealing the emergency door in its face. A moment later a blaster bolt rang off the metal on her side, and she realised that she had stumbled into the middle of a pitched battle.

Members of the guard were grappling with Sith soldiers all over the corridor. She peered forward, trying to make out which way the fight was leaning, and realised that they were not alone. She could see Republican soldiers among her own men, and, at the end of the hall, a detachment of droids were being forced back by three figures in brown robes...

The Jedi were here!

Elana whooped, then suddenly realised that she was far from safe – she somehow had to cross this battlefield without ending up fried by enemy lasers. She decided it would be best to do start sooner rather than later, so, sending up a quick prayer, reaching out with the Force and trying to remember everything Mace had told the conscripts about this kind of situation, she dashed forwards.

Dodge to the left, duck a glancing blow to the head – was that a droid arm? – a group of Jedi leaping out of the way and exclaiming something she didn't hear (_please, please let them not have recognized me_), another dodge, a frantic sprint, and then...

Thank Force, she had made it.

Just as she reached the far end of the corridor a doorway to one side flew open and someone came leaping out, colliding with her heavily and catching her off-balance. She staggered at the impact and nearly fell, but then newcomer grabbed her around the waist.

'Wait - CAL?! What the – '

Elana knew that voice.

'_Qui-Gon?_'

'Bloody hell!' Qui-Gon spluttered, clutching at her and gaping. Elana slapped his hands away, hugged him on impulse and then said:

'OhmiForce, am I ever glad to see you! Listen carefully, I have to –'

'D-didn't Mace find you?' he blurted.

'Huh? Mace?'

'Oh crap,' Qui-Gon gasped. Just then a shot smashed into the wall beside them, taking a good chunk out of the stonework. Quickly Elana grabbed Qui-Gon and manhandled him round the corner to a passage that was quieter.

'Quick!' she hissed. 'What about Master Windu?'

'When that damn tracker went off I went and gave him your stupid message. And then he dashed off ahead of the rest of us saying he had to find you, but you haven't seen him.'

'Oh no.' Elana clapped a hand to her forehead and flopped against the wall. '_Oh,no!_'

'Caleb, what's wrong?'

'I've got a bad feeling about this,' Elana muttered. 'I...I'll bet he's..._stupid_ man...'

'Caleb, you're losing me –'

'Right, Qui-Gon, listen closely,' Elana snapped, grabbing the front of his robes and yanking him closer. 'There's a Sith lord in the building. I reckon he's in the main control room. He's got a computer and a memory stick like this one.' She yanked the USB out of her pocket and held it up for him to see. 'If he gets to use his computer and his memory sticks, bad things will happen. I haven't seen Mace, so I reckon he must have gone to fight the Sith lord. Anyway, we've got to stop him.'

'Can't we just let Mace stop him?'

'NO!'

'Oh, crap.'

'Come on!' Elana cried, dragging him to his feet. 'It's not far from here, just on the next floor down...'

The two of them began to run.

* * *

Form VII was seeing its first true innings.

He was developing it on the fly, like he'd never been able to develop it before. The hate-driven red blade swung at him, but he was equal to it, blocking every stroke with his stronger defence of controlled aggression, malleable pride. But then thoughts of his Padawan would invade, and Mace felt his focus ebb. What kind of dangers was his hardly-trained pupil facing now? The best Mace could say of his prospects was that the most dangerous fighter in the building was being engaged by himself.

'You're afraid,' the Sith hissed. Mace ground his teeth in frustration as he sprang lightly away from him, up onto a higher level of the room.

'You could use that fear, but you let it weaken you instead.' For a moment the Sith lowered his blade and seemed to stand at ease, peering down at Mace. 'Hmmm. You are conflicted for a Jedi. So much _anger_ –'

'_Why – _is it always – the same – taunts?' Mace grunted, directing a barrage of blows at his adversary. For a moment the Sith backed away, his teeth bared in a ferocious snarl. Then he twisted the expression into a smile and drove forwards once more.

'Because, boy, all your Jedi are so pathetically _predictable._'

Goad them, mock them, exploit every weakness. Find nerves stretched taut by the dogmatic rules of the Jedi, and play on them like the strings of an instrument. Exhaust them. Let them kill themselves.

* * *

Panting, Elana jumped the last six steps in the flight, landing hard on the landing below. Qui-Gon was right behind her.

'Here!' she panted, dashing to the door of the control room and leaning her head against it for a moment. The blast doors were closed over it, automatically sealed by the palace's security system. Qui-Gon whipped out his lightsaber, plunged it into the doors and began to carve a slow circle out of the metal.

'Uh, Qui?' Elana had remembered something.

'What?'

'I don't have a lightsaber.'

'Great. Just great.' He was barely distracted from the door, brows furrowed. 'Never mind, I'll protect you. Stand back.' The circle _thunked_ out of the door and the two of them hopped over the molten edge. They were in a short passage which ended in a second door, for security. It was much darker here; though humans visited the control room, this passage was designed for droids, and because the doors hadn't been properly opened the lighting hadn't activated. Elana took a step forward, stomach churning, and then stumbled over something in the dark. She gave a shriek.

'Cal?' came Qui-Gon's voice, younger and more frightened than she had ever heard it.

The thing in her path was breathing. Just.

'My lady?' a hoarse voice whispered.

She gasped in horror. She knew this voice, too.

'Oh no,' Elana collapsed to her knees and dragged the man's head into the circle of light shining through the door. It was the Captain of the Guard. 'Oh no, no, no, no, _no...'_

Qui-Gon's voice cut through the darkness. 'Caleb, what – '

'_Shut up!' _Elana screeched at him, and then turned back to the dying captain. 'Sir,' she said urgently, 'what happened?'

'Your father... told me... that the Sith would come here. I... he...'

Elana's hands clenched into fists. 'He _told _you to come here?!'

'No, no!' the man wheezed, lifting one hand to appease her. 'I came here... on my own account,' his voice gained a little dark humour. 'I thought I could defend this place from – ' he stopped, gasping for breath that wouldn't come.

_The fool, _Elana thought. _He honestly thought he would be a match for this Sith? _

The Captain was still talking. 'Another Jedi came through here... he... didn't see me...' he broke off into a fit of gurgling coughs, and Elana saw with horror that even in the half-light, the liquid at his mouth was dark.

Qui-Gon spoke again, awkwardly. 'Cal, it must have been Mace. We have to help him.'

'You go on!' she told him quickly. 'I'll stay here.'

'You should go and help your friend,' the voice below her rasped. 'It's over for me.'

'No, there's still time!' she said, but she knew, with a sick certainty, that it was a lie. 'We can take you to the healers, they – '

'In the middle of a battle?' he croaked, with that same wry humour. 'I think not... besides... he stabbed me right through, My Lady. I'm afraid...'

She had been avoiding looking at his injury, but now she had to. 'No,' she said quietly, rocking slightly back and forth. 

On her knees, she could feel the Captain's breaths growing fainter. 'Ah... at least...'

She fumbled for his hand. There was barely a pulse. 'Captain.'

'... I died at my duty,' his voice choked off at the last word, and he gave a sigh, his whole body relaxing.

'Captain, you did.' His eyes were closed; could he still hear her? Maybe. If so, she hoped her words would comfort him.

He gave a rattling sigh, and then, with an awful finality, Elana felt his pulse thud slowly to a stop.

Qui-Gon's hand was on her shoulder, shaking. She wanted to stay crouched here in the dark, but now here ears caught the crack and sizzle of lightsabers sounding faintly through the second door. She stumbled to her feet and placed her hand over the lock, twisting with the Force until it clicked. The door swung open.

* * *

_Foolish boy,_ Plagueis thought. The importance of the Sith computer must have blazed like a beacon in his mind, but the young Jedi was too preoccupied with anxiety for his Padawan and egotistical desire to win the fight to notice it. So he continued to bash away at Plagueis's unbreachable defences, when he could have slipped past him and ended the war with one swipe...

And Plagueis was confident now. His opponent showed skill equal to a Knight twice his age, but he had never been a true threat. Plagueis was simply fending him off, biding his time, and now the Jedi's dark eyes flickered briefly to the side as a crack of light appeared around the door that until seconds ago had been locked. Plagueis felt a spurt of triumph at the knowledge of who must be behind that door, and the emotion seemed to carry his blade forward without instruction from him, raking its point across the young Knight's stomach. He fell with a cry, dropping his lightsaber. The blade extinguished itself at once, and a deeper darkness fell in the chamber as Plagueis leapt forward to finish the job.

And then a figure, quite different from the distraught presence of Elana Sango in the doorway, crashed into him from the side. Plagueis stumbled and allowed himself to fall, hands groping in the darkness. His own momentum carried him to his feet, and he found himself gripping the throat of a gangly youth in Jedi garb, his lightsaber casting green light across his petrified face. Plagueis hurled him aside with a vicious twist of his arm, in time to see Elana scooping up the lightsaber from beside her fallen Master.

* * *

For a moment her fallen master's weapon seemed to impossible to control, free-spirited and rebellious away from Mace. She gripped it tightly for a moment, and then all at once she felt it decide that she was a friend – or was she imagining things? Either way, it suddenly seemed to weld itself to her palm, and then she ignited the blade with a sharp crackle and turned to face the Sith.

Behind him, Qui-Gon was struggling to rise on his hands and knees. She could see the blood glinting darkly on his face.

'Try and get to the computer,' she said clearly, sending him a mental picture of which one it was, and where. She circled Plagueis slowly, guiding them away from where Mace lay, towards more open ground.

'You'll pay for what you've tried to do to the galaxy, Sith,' she hissed.

'Oh no, my lady,' the voice returned out of its shadows, smooth-oiled as butter. 'It is you who shall pay.' Then he turned and darted away from her.

She had been so braced for blows to come that she nearly fell over when his attention left her, but immediately she saw that he was heading for Qui-Gon and the computer. With a cry she flung herself on him, Qui-Gon dashed to meet him from the other side, and suddenly all three of them were fighting.

It was hard, and fast, and the darkness helped. All she could see were the three lighted blades, purple red and green, lulling her into an almost trancelike state. Then the red-tattooed face flashed out of the darkness, laughing, and she lunged in fury. She abandoned her training; Sangos would never let go of their emotions. She fought with a fierce clean anger born out of her loyalty to her people and her love for Mace, and her desire to see Qui-Gon safely through this. For a moment the Sith fell back, astonished by her ferocity, then he attacked with renewed vigour. Briefly she fancied that she was with Behra, fencing on the sandy strip beneath the flowering trees in spring, that she had foolishly allowed her friend to gain the advantage and that in a moment she would press back – but then she was being Force-pushed backwards, like being mown down by a speeder.

She scrabbled to find her feet, tasting blood. She was disoriented, robe torn, but Mace's lightsaber hadn't deserted her. _Courage,_ it seemed to say.

_This is getting me nowhere,_ she thought. _It's not about how long I can survive against him, it's about getting rid of that damn computer..._

'My USB, Elana Sango,' Plagueis hissed, stalking towards her. 'Hand it over now, and I'll make it quick.'

She backed away, feeling the beginnings of panic now, shaking her head mutely.

'I could catch that little friend of yours, and make him suffer first,' he offered. On the other side of the room Qui-Gon, who had been heading for the computer once more, fell back with a grunt of pain.

'You should have seen your precious Master's face, when I told him that his beloved Padawan had been lying to him for all the time they'd known one another. Not the Jedi's brightest star; a filthy, snivelling _girl,_ not fit to slave in the sculleries of Alderan...'

'If he knew that I was clever enough to pass myself off as a boy,' Elana panted, 'he'd be _proud_. Not to mention relieved –'

Plagueis aimed a thundering blow at her head, and Elana dropped to the ground, landing hard and winded. At the same time Plagueis stumbled, and there was a ripping sound. A section of fabric tore away from his robe, clutched in Qui-Gon's hand. There was a clatter as a small, rectangular object fell to the floor.

Plagueis dived for it, but Qui-Gon was faster. He snatched it up and connected it to the partner that Elana had passed him in the last second before they entered the room.

The electronic message darted between the two USBs, and data began to erase itself, code fragmenting, both devices wiping themselves blank.

As the Sith seized him by the throat, Elana raised Mace's lightsaber, and then, instead of fighting, hurled it with all her strength. The bright blade arced across the room and buried itself in the computer. It remained ignited for a second and then extinguished. The hilt clattered to the floor; where it had been was a clean hole, the length of a sword, flickering with short-circuited wires and giving off a strong smell of burned wires.

It was the second time Elana had destroyed a computer that was vital to the Sith. She seemed to be getting quite good at it.

She turned to face the Sith Lord, half hysterical, half elated. 'Go on then!' She cried, flinging her arms wide. 'Kill me! Kill us both! It won't do you any damn good now!' Her eyes were bright, snapping with the adrenaline of the fight.

For a moment Plagueis stared at her, and it was almost calm. Then the door flew open once more.

'Darth Plagueis!'

Elana gasped, this time in joy. Shan Sango stood framed in the doorway.

'Step – away – from – my – daughter!' he snarled, stepping forward. His lightsaber was in his hand, glowing with frosty green light. More Jedi and guards began to spill out of the passage behind him, spreading out to flank him on either side.

'It's over, Sith. The Prime Minister is safe. Your weapons are destroyed. I am placing you under arrest for attempted –'

Suddenly Plagueis darted to the side. He hit a button and shutters flew up, exposing the windows. Cold daylight spilled through the glass. And just as Elana had done an hour before, Plagueis jumped.

For a moment she thought that he had flung himself to his death floors below, but then she saw the speeder rising up to intercept him. Plagueis landed in the passenger seat, slotting himself into place with an accuracy that only a Force sensitive could have achieved. The speeder banked, and Elana glimpsed the driver's profile beneath his dark cowl: strong, sharp nose, pale skin, a lock of sandy-ginger hair. Then the speeder was shooting away.

'After him!' Shan roared, stabbing at the controls of his com bracelet. Within seconds the windows had flown open and emergency speeders were shooting from their hangars to carry his men. They sprinted across the control room and onto their vehicles, taking off in pursuit, and Elana, gazing after them, was proud. Her father would never surrender his feelings, but today he was playing the Jedi. He had seen that she was unhurt, and he had prioritized what needed to be prioritized. Truly, he was the finest warrior she knew.

But then she remembered Mace.

She had no idea whether the blow she had seen delivered had been fatal or not, only that it had dropped him like a stone and that he hadn't moved since. She crouched down beside him and lifted his head, feeling for a pulse. There was no blood – lightsabers always cauterised as they cut – but his robes were slashed and scorched. For a moment she couldn't detect any sign of life, but then to her shock he spoke.

'Caleb? You're alright. Did...did you beat him, then?'

'Sort of,' she answered. 'Master, are you –'

'Well...well done,' Mace breathed, but his voice was fading. Heart kicking in panic, Elana snatched the emergency comlink from the wall and spoke urgently.

'Sango to first aid, to you read me? There's a Jedi injured in the main control unit...send a medical detachment immediately. That's an order.' She flicked the comlink off, and the last of her self control seemed to dissolve with it.

'Caleb?' Mace's grip was desperately strong on her hand.

'Master,' she choked, tears blurring her vision now. 'Master, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I lied...'

'Shhh,' Mace whispered. 'Don't speak of it. You are saving my life.' He sighed deeply and his eyes closed.

Qui-Gon came crawling over from the corner where Plagueis had flung him. There was a lot of blood dripping into his eye from a gash across his forehead, but he seemed alert enough. Wordlessly he pushed Elana's hands aside and bent over Mace, and she recalled that he had done training with the Healers back at the temple...maybe he would be able to do something for her Master.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Qui-Gon working with the Force, Elana simply zoning out from shock and weariness. Finally Qui-Gon finished his first aid and looked up.

'Cal?'

'Yeah?'

'You're a girl, aren't you?'

'Yeah, pretty much.'

'That... explains a lot.'

So the secret was out. No more pretending, even if she'd wanted to any more. But Qui-Gon just gave her a weary grin, too tired to ask questions, and slumped backwards against the wall. And Elana felt that, whatever happened next, she could handle it. At least she hadn't lost one friend.

**A/N: Yeah, we couldn't kill old Macey-Wace. We (and Elana) all love him too much. So, how does this chapter compare with your expectations? Leave your feedback in a **

**REVIEW!!!!!!!!**

**True and Essence.**


	23. Aftermath

**A/N: You can look Behra up on Wokieepedia. She's there. She also has a two-second appearance in **_**Revenge of the Sith. **_**But read this first! Sorry for the long delay. AGAIN. Can you believe that CTTMOH is this old??? **

**True's A/N: I HATE this first bit! It was meant to be all passionate and serious and then was...not...Oh well.**

**Disclaimer: **even after all the time, sweat, blood and tears we've put into this story... we still don't own Star Wars.

**Chapter 20 – Aftermath**

'I still can't believe you didn't tell me _anything_ about all this!'

'I already _said_, Behra,' Elana growled irritably, for the umpteenth time. 'If I'd sent you a message, they could've – '

'...traced the signal, found the location, and tracked you down from there,' Behra recited. 'But you could have left a note, or a coded message, or _something, _you know?'

Elana sighed. 'I really am sorry, Behra. Everything just happened so fast, I didn't even think of it.'

They were sitting in chairs at the bedside of the recovering Mace, who, having being taken out of the Bacta tank that morning, was now due to wake up within the hour. Elana had insisted on being there when he woke up, and somehow, Behra had ended up coming too.

'Don't worry. It's okay, El,' she was saying quietly now, patting her friend on the shoulder. 'But I was just so worried. I couldn't enjoy _anything_ properly while you were gone, because all the time I'd just be... _hey!_' Suddenly Behra lost her serious tone, and became animated, her curls bouncing. _Brown _curls. Apparently her friend had decided to change her hair colour, 'just to see how it looked'. 'You'll _never _guess what else happened while you were gone!'

'What?' After everything that Behra had told her had been happening on Alderaan during her long absence, Elana felt nothing could surprise her anymore.

It had been nearly two days since the Sith had been defeated, and Elana had spent most of it sleeping, shattered after stress and exertion of the long battle. But for the last ten or so hours, she had been with Behra, trying to explain just why she had disappeared without trace for nearly half a year without so much as warning her best friend.

There had been tears, shrieks, hugs and shouting. By the time Behra had finished interrogating her, Elana felt almost as tired as she had done at the end of the fight.

But despite this, she was grateful – so grateful – to see her friend again. The long months of separation had been hard on both of them.

'Uh, Elana?' Behra inquired, waving in a hand in front of her face.

'Huh? Oh, sorry. I just spaced out... tired, y'know.'

'Yeah, I know. But, anyway. As I was saying. Bail Organa and I...' Behra paused impressively. '...Are_ engaged_.'

'WHAT?' yelped Elana, almost forgetting to whisper. She glanced nervously at the unconscious figure in the bed, but he didn't stir. 'I mean... _what_? Since when?'

Behra sighed, and a blush tinted her cheeks. Lovestruck as ever. 'Well, actually, we got talking the night that you left. He came to tell me that you had said to say that you were going home early, and it just rolled from there...'

'Wow,' Elana muttered, 'Have _you _been filling the time productively.'

'...Senator Bail Organa, Prince of Alderaan, and Behra Organa, Queen of Alderaan,' Behra sighed dreamily. 'Doesn't it sound wonderful?'

'It sure does,' Elana smiled.

'Even my father likes him – says he's the best thing to happen to republican Senate for years!' Behra went on. 'I can't wait to introduce you to him, Elana, as my fiancé, that is – seeing as it's partly down to you that we're together!' she finished, beaming.

'I'm really pleased for you, Behra,' Elana said sincerely. 'I'm sure you'll be very happy.'

'Thanks. But,' Behra stopped, and stole a glance toward the sleeping Mace, 'what about you?'

Elana groaned. She had known that this was coming.

'I can see why you like him,' Behra said critically. 'but I could never go out with someone who didn't have hair...'

'_Behra!'_

'... and the fact that he's a Jedi is going to complicate things a lot, you know...'

'You're right – that's one of the things I've been worrying about. What do you think I should – '

'...and I still can't believe that he hooked up with you when he thought you were a boy-'

'Can we just draw a veil over that whole episode –'

'But what was _with _that?! I mean, now you'll never be sure if he's really entirely straight, or whether it was really – '

'BEHRA. I. Love. Him. _Case closed_.'

'Ummhh... Elana...'

'_What_?'

'You might wanna...'

Elana followed her friends gaze.

And there was Mace, eyes open, propped up on his elbows and watching them with an amused look.

Elana flushed a charming shade of tomato red.

'So,' Behra said, after a pause that seemed to last hours. 'I think introductions are in order. Master Windu, I'm– '

'Behra,' Elana said, slowly and evenly, 'would you mind, um, going to inform the healers that Master Windu is awake?'

Behra smirked. 'Are you sure that's necessary, Elana? I think they probably have droids or something here to do that sort of stuff for them – '

'Get out,' Elana translated.

'You only had to ask, El,' Behra said, rising. 'I'll be waiting outside.' She flounced out if the room, but winked at her friend before the door closed. Elana suppressed a giggle.

She turned back to Mace, her smile fading. 'Are you okay? How do you feel?'

He leant back on his pillows, but his eyes didn't leave her face. 'Exhausted. And my stomach hurts.'

'Not surprising. The Sith Lord cut you right across.'

'I remember.'

There was a short silence, during which Elana stared at her hands, and Mace stared at her.

Eventually, when she realised that mace wasn't going to talk until she did, Elana asked the question that had been bothering her ever since she'd woken up. 'You're... really not mad at me? About - about anything?'

'No,' said Mace simply. 'Just very surprised. So you're really Elana Sango, then, not Caleb.' It wasn't a question.

'Yeah,' Elana reached forward and grabbed his hand. She had never felt so relieved in her life. 'Oh, Mace, I'm glad.'

'I could never be angry with you, Ca – Elana,' Mace corrected himself. Then his face lit up with one of his rare, broad grins. 'To be totally honest, I'm actually very thankful. That you're a girl, that is, though of course I'm happy you didn't really desert the order, too.'

'Oh,' Elana blushed. 'Yeah.'

'But not just because of that,' he went on, his face turning more serious, 'When I first realised your potential, during training, I was shocked, more than anything else. But after a while, I started to worry that if we had missed as talented an individual as you – and you coming from a family that we _knew _had some skill in the Force – that we could be missing countless potential Jedi all over the galaxy. To know that that isn't the case is an enormous relief.'

'Yeah,' Elana said thoughtfully, caressing his hand. As they lapsed into a comfortable silence, her thoughts drifted, to Corouscant, where Qui-Gon and most of the other Jedi had already returned. Only the Council, a few Knights and the seriously injured still remained on Alderaan, recovering, supervising the surrendered enemy soldiers and hunting for the Sith Lord respectively.

'So...' said Mace, after a little while had passed. 'What are we going to do now? Have you spoken to the Council?'

'No,' Elana murmured, staring at her hands, 'not yet. I spoke to Master Yoda after the battle, and he seemed...rather proud of me, and not angry at all...but master Mundi won't even look at me, and some of the other Council members seem pretty annoyed –'

'I'll sort them out,' Mace growled, 'just as soon as I can get out of this stupid bed. Those pigheaded...don't they see you're a hero?'

'What d'you reckon they'll do to me?' Elana whispered.

'Nothing!' Mace said robustly. A little too robustly, if anything. 'They won't do anything to you! It would be thoroughly unjust!'

'But Master, what _could_ they do to me, legally?'

'Well...' Mace said unwillingly, 'there are sanctions for identity fraud, of course – fines, imprisonment – the sentence is heavier for impersonating an official, such as a Jedi, but you weren't impersonating, you _became _one...'

'Don't quibble, Master,' Elana cut him off. 'What about...execution?'

'Don't be ridiculous, Elana.'

'Just answer the question!'

'The worst penalty the Jedi themselves can impose is expulsion from the order,' Mace said. 'The Courts could only have you executed for impersonating a Jedi if it could be proved that you did it with criminal intent. And I mean _really _criminal. But Elana, nobody is going to execute you. As I said, you are a hero.'

Elana nodded, hesitated, and then leaned forward and kissed him.

Immediately she realised that what he had said about relief was true. Never had he been so relaxed as he kissed her, so eager. _He must truly have loved me for myself,_ she thought. _He must have loved me despite everything, despite thinking I was a boy, despite the code..._She had intended the kiss to be brief, but with that thought she found herself twining her arms around his neck and pulling him closer...just as a small, dry cough sounded from the door.

Elana yanked herself away from Mace and scrambled back into her chair. Yoda was standing in the doorway.

An instant later, and before she had had time to even begin to compose herself, Ki-Adi Mundi appeared beside him.

His face was filled with the requisite Jedi disapproval, but she thought she could detect a note of triumph in his expression as well as he took in her appearance. _He wants me to go down,_ she thought. _He never liked me._ And then a flippant little afterthought: _This is still about that stupid rogue lifebelt, isn't it?_

'Lady Sango,' Yoda said. 'How feel you this morning?'

'Quite recovered, Master,' she answered demurely, rising to bow.

'And you, Master Windu,' Yoda continued, hobbling into the room. Ki-Adi remained in the doorway, a faint sneer playing about his mouth. 'Glad to see you awake at last, I am. Hope, I do, that up and about you soon will be.'

'Thank you, Master.' Mace had smoothed his face out admirably into a smile. 'I feel better for a few days' rest, if anything.'

'Excellent this is,' Yoda said with a smile, and Ki-Adi cleared his throat noisily in the doorway.

'Ah, yes,' Yoda said, with the briefest of glances in his direction. 'Master Mundi...'

'We had in fact come to seek you, Sango,' Ki-Adi said, with a nasty smile. 'There is the matter of your trial to discuss.'

'I would imagine,' Mace said, suddenly and loudly, 'that you are intending to bring her before the Council, to decide whether or not this need go further than the Order itself.'

'That is correct,' Ki-Adi nodded. 'If she is found guilty of identity fraud with criminal intent, she will be handed over to the courts –'

'The trial cannot proceed until I am present, then.'

Ki-Adi cut off sharply and glared.

'I am a member of the Council, am I not?' Mace pressed.

'True,' Ki-Adi admitted, 'but the other Masters may feel that given your peculiar involvement in the case it would be inappropriate for you to sit on the Council during the trial.'

'Highly irregular it would be, for only eleven members present to have,' Yoda put in.

'Ridiculous.' Ki-Adi tossed a contemptuous glance at Elana. 'For a case such as this three masters would suffice.'

'Be that as it may,' Mace said, 'I was Lady Sango's master and will be required to give evidence. The trial cannot take place until I am fit to attend.'

'Very well.' Ki-Adi gave a lemon-juice grimace and rapped hard on a silver ball fixed to the wall, which rapidly uncurled, transforming into a droid.

'When will this patient be fit to leave his room?' he snapped.

'The bacta tank treatment has been highly successful,' the even medical voice returned. 'Gentle exertion will be permissible within forty-eight hours.

'Very well.' Ki-Adi turned and spoke directly to Elana for the second time. 'You will be brought before the Council at oh-nine-hundred hours the day after tomorrow. We will decide what end to put to this scandalous business. Never in all the history of the Jedi order...'

Yoda began to hobble towards the door with a slight grunt of exertion. He did not even look at Ki-Adi, but somehow the master seemed cowed. He broke off his tirade and followed Yoda out of the room at once.

Elana sat perfectly still until the door had swung shut behind them, then turned to look at Mace. He was lying back now, his chest rising and falling as he breathed deeply, but his eyes glittered open as he watched her.

She held his gaze for a few moments, and then he seemed reassured that she wasn't about to go to pieces, and closed his eyes in clear exhaustion.

Elana got up and tiptoed towards the door. Right now, she needed Behra.

* * *

She would almost rather have gone straight to trial than this two-day reprieve. It allowed just enough time for her trepidation to work itself up nicely into panic.

She found herself avoiding Mace's room. He reminded her too much of the whole tangled mess of what she'd done, and he was too strung up himself for his presence to be soothing. Instead, she clung to Behra's side whenever she could. She found that, despite being engaged, her old friend still enjoyed her company. She prattled away irreverently about the Order and the Masters, scathing the cut and colour of their cloaks, ranting about their sexist attitude and advising Elana to picture everyone in the room naked on the day of her trial. When she blushingly murmured that that might not be such a good idea, all things considered, Behra said:

'Well, in that case it ought to provide a pleasant distraction,' Behra said briskly, and Elana, despite herself, laughed.

By the morning of the trial, everything felt surreal. The echoes of feet entering the room that had been allocated for the hearing seemed to reverberate long after they should have died away. Every face seemed to swim at the end of a long tunnel. By the time she took her seat in the centre of the room, she had settled into a kind of light-headed disbelief. Which maybe accounted for Behra's last remark before the beginning of the trial:

'Wow, you look calm.'

There was a non-Jedi, some kind of government official, reading out the case, recording those present, asking her to confirm that she was indeed Elana Sango and asking if she accepted the terms of the trial. She tried to focus as Ki-Adi expounded a list of the charges laid against her – 'Impersonation of a Republican Official...theft and damage to personal property (her father's lightsaber?)...corruption of a member of the Council...' and then came the testimonies.

Yariel Poof testified that she did indeed have a midi-chlorian count high enough to permit legal entry into the Jedi order. He also testified that she had identified herself as Caleb Sango on arrival at the temple. Mace spoke, saying, she thought, something about how seriously she had taken the training, and how she had never attempted to exploit her position as a Padawan. Then the Senate official rose and placed a holotape in the centre of the room.

'Recordings of witnesses unable to attend in person,' he said, and sat back down.

The holotape blinked into life, and a blue image appeared, revolving above its surface. Elana blinked in surprise. It was Yannek.

'The person we knew as Caleb Sango,' he said, 'was a very gifted Jedi, and the best of all us Conscripts. He was well-liked and never tried to take advantage of his position. His only crime was to assume a false identity, which I believe he did for the good of the Rebublic.'

His image blinked out, to be replaced with Qui-Gon's.

'Anyone judging Caleb Sango, or Elana, or whoever he or she is, should remember that he's a war hero,' he said. 'There are well-attested accounts of Elana's acts on Bestine, and as for what she did on her home planet, I saw it with my own eyes. If it wasn't for her, we'd all be slaving away for the Sith by now. And if the Code says that the one who did this has to be punished, well, then maybe there's something wrong with the Code.'

His image faded and another appeared. When it spoke, Elana recognised the rich, rolling voice of Jard Dooku.

'It cannot be disputed that Elana Sango has broken the law,' he said. 'However, I salute this young Jedi for daring to challenge one of the greatest inequities of our society. For a hundred generations we have not questioned that the Jedi's mandate was extended only to men. The Lady Sango has proved otherwise.'

There was a click, and the projector switched itself off, leaving a ringing silence behind. Elana stared at the spot where the figures had materialised, trying to think clearly. Blurry afterimages were burned into her retinas. She blinked twice, hard.

'Elana Sango!' The official's voice shattered the silence around her, dragging her back to the present. 'You are now required to stand before this court and give your testimony...'

Slowly, Elana rose. There was a kind of burning in her stomach; it sent shivery flickers of heat through her veins, bolstering, swelling, spreading...

'Masters,' she said. 'Fellow Jedi, honourable delegates of the Republic. At the start of this war, you found yourselves short of soldiers, and you began to call up men and boys with any midi-chlorian count above the average...even as low as five-thousand or so. Fortunately this war ended before they saw much action, but imagine what would have happened of one of these boys – or even a group of them, even nine or ten – had come face to face with a Sith. It could have been slaughter.

'And meanwhile, sitting in my easy chair on Alderan, I learned that I had a count high above the peace-time requirements for entry into the order. And not only a high count, but training to go with it. And yet I knew that the Order would not look twice at me because I was a woman.

'I knew I could help. I knew I could be a useful soldier to you if I disguised myself and joined. That was my only motive: to help people, to defend my planet, not to subvert the system or gain privileges or any of the other things that you all seem to think I've been trying to do. And you know something else? I'm amazed that I got away with it. I would have thought that a bunch of _Force-sensitives_ like you would have spotted me the second I walked through the door. You brought me before you specially as soon as you heard who my father was, remember? But you didn't spot that I was a woman, and why? Because the Order is stagnant, that's why. You're so hung up on your old prejudices that you can't see the world as it is any more. You just didn't think a woman would _dare._' She sat back down.

There was a ringing silence.

'Retire the Council will,' Yoda said at last. He alone looked unperturbed by her words. Rather satisfied if anything. 'The evidence to discuss. Leave to go you have, Lady Sango, until passed one hour has. Then our verdict we shall give.'

Elana nodded, but made no move to get up. As soon as the Order had filed out she leaned forward and buried her face in her hands. All the fight had gone out of her with her speech, and she felt exhausted. And now _more waiting._

After sitting in silence for a few minutes she stood up. The room was cool and airy, and she could hear a clock ticking somewhere in the background, mingling with the rustle of wind-tossed leaves from outside. Tempting sunlight winked through the tall windows. Master Yoda _had_ said she was free to go...she pushed the window open and stepped out onto the balcony, heading right to the edge and leaning on the balustrade. A soothing breeze played through her shorn hair. She closed her eyes and thought about what she'd said in the chamber.

_They were training up barely Force-sensitive boys to be Jedi, while I was sitting there with a five-figure midi-chlorian count...me and who knows how many other women. _And what Mace had said after he'd woken up. _'I started to worry that we could be missing countless potential Jedi all over the galaxy. To know that that isn't the case is an enormous relief...' _

She was still standing out on the balcony when she heard a door fly open somewhere inside, and footsteps pounding across the room where they'd held her trial. Then Mace burst out onto the balcony.

'Master!' she exclaimed, whipping round and clutching onto the balustrade for support. 'What is it?'

'Cleared!' Mace yelled jubilantly. He looked ten years younger, practically a teenager, his eyes shining in his smiling face. 'Cleared of all charges! And they think that there's truth in what you said about the Code as well. They've decided to accept a trial group of women into the Order!'

Elana's head swam. 'Really? You're serious?'

'Yes. And since you passed the trials, they're willing to go ahead with knighting you as well. You're not to be punished at all. You've been found completely innocent; in fact, they want to thank you for bringing this matter to their attention.' Mace made a grimace. 'Well, most of them. As a body, you understand me.'

'Yeah,' Elana breathed. 'Yeah, I understand you.'

'This is wonderful.' Mace suddenly stepped forward and hugged her so hard that he lifted her off the ground.

[can you add some fluff here, Izzy?]

'I want you to marry me, Elana,' he said. 'I've been raised by the Order since birth, and the life of a Jedi was all they ever taught me to want, but now I see there's so much more...I know you're a lady and I'm just a Jedi, but please, say you will.'

'No,' Elana said. 'I can't.'

'What?' The happiness had still not quite died from Mace's face. He looked more incredulous than hurt. 'Elana, I think I know you a little bit. A life without love isn't for you. You don't have to join the Order –'

Elana raised a hand, cutting him off. 'I do have to,' she said softly, and pain racked through her, because this time she wasn't just pretending to reject him, and she would never be able to come back and tell him that it was a lie. This time it was real, and if was forever.

'I have to,' she said softly, 'because of the other Force-sensitive women. When you woke up you said that you were glad that the Order weren't missing Force-sensitives, but you are, all over the galaxy! Women _have _to be accepted as Jedi, Mace, and now they're finally going to try it, and I'm going to be the first. But can't you imagine what they'll say if I leave the moment I'm knighted, to marry you? They'll say, "see, this proves our point. Women don't want to be fighters and soldiers, they just want to get married and have babies. And they're a bad influence on the men; if we let women in knights will be falling in love and leaving left, right and centre." So you see, Mace, I have to stay. I have to, and so do you. The Order needs you; you're already a great Jedi. And if I leave they'll never let another woman in again.'

'It's not fair...' Mace whispered thickly.

'I know.' Elana stroked his cheek pleadingly; he wouldn't look at her. 'But we have to do it, to make life better for the people who come after us. When we became Jedi we agreed to make sacrifices for the sake of the galaxy. Please, Mace, don't you see...?'

'You're a far better Jedi than I'll ever be,' Mace murmured, and then he was kissing her as though he could never let her go. And despite what she'd said, she hung onto him, and kissed him back. Fifty, sixty, seventy years as a Jedi alone stretched ahead of her, but she thought that she could face them, and everything that they brought, if she could be with Mace, just for this day.

* * *

The next morning all the Jedi took their leave of Alderan, boarding a transport for Corusant. It was of a similar kind to the one she had left on all those months ago, when she ran away on her own as Caleb Sango, but instead of huddling amid the rows of crowded benches, she had a cool white cabin to herself. _What happened to our Jedi vows?_ she wondered during long hours spent lying on her bunk, staring at the ceiling. _What makes us so much better than anybody else? Private berths, indeed!_

It was evening when they arrived at the Jedi temple. Elana climbed the steps amid the members of the Council, some of whom refused to look at her, all of whom were awkward. As soon as they entered the building the Masters disappeared down separate corridors, each heading for his own apartments. Elana set her small case of clothing down in the centre of the entrance hall, too tired to cry. She wondered where on Earth she was supposed to go now. Not back to her old quarters with Mace, so where?

'Caleb?'

She turned and saw Qui-Gon standing in the doorway.

'Qui,' she said weakly.

'Force, Cal, you look like crap,' Qui-Gon said. The familiar male bluntness seemed all at once to envelope her, and she felt better. Drawn back into that rough yet friendly world that she'd inhabited with the Conscripts. 'What happened about the...you know...'

'The trial?' Elana grinned. 'They let me off, and I'm gonna be knighted. Thanks for testifying, by the way.'

'No problem. If they'd convicted you, it would just have been...a complete miscarriage of justice.' Qui-Gon shook his head. 'I'm telling you, sometimes I wonder about this Code. Master Dooku...well, he's not my Master anymore, seeing as I got knighted, but he was furious about it.'

'I heard his testimony,' Elana nodded. 'So...are you guys OK now?'

Qui-Gon shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face. 'I don't know, Cal. Honestly I think he wouldn't have taken such a stand over your case if he didn't enjoy contradicting the Order whenever he gets the chance, but I just figured...what's the point in arguing with him when we could be civil? He still likes me, and he truly wants peace and safety for the galaxy...so if he has a few dodgy views on how to get them, I'm not going to argue with him. As long as it's only words and not deeds. Because he's been a good teacher to me, and a good friend, and if he hadn't taught me to question the Order I might have blamed you for impersonating a Jedi, just because I was blindly following the Code.'

'About my impersonating a Jedi...'

'Yeah. That.' Qui-Gon's manner became abruptly more awkward. 'I guess I'd better get out of the habit of calling you Caleb, huh...Elana?'

She smiled. 'Call me what you like.' She looked around. 'Do you have any idea what people are meant to do when they've been newly knighted? Because everybody seems to have abandoned me and I have no quarters...'

'You can share with me for now if you like,' Qui-Gon offered. 'Wait...oh man, is that creepy?'

'No, Qui, that's kind. Thanks. I just want to go to bed really.'

'O.K.' Qui-Gon stepped forward and picked up her case for her, then led her towards the stairs. 'You would not believe how little practise I've had talking to girls,' he said as they climbed.

In his room he made up a sloppy bed for her on the sofa, and then sat and listened patiently while she filled him in on the rest. Her decision to remain in the Order, and what it meant for her, and for Mace. When she was finished, Qui-Gon remarked:

'The attachment rule sucks,' rolled himself in his blankets and went to sleep.

* * *

She was knighted the next morning, straight after breakfast. Normally a new knight would first have to face the trials, and then be presented before the rest of the Order. But, in light of recent events – everybody still in disorder after the war, and those who were bound to violently disapprove of her being knighted – this formality would be dispensed with. It also seemed unnecessary, considering her success in the duel against the Sith, to ask her to complete further tests. She was brought before the Council of twelve, presented her father's lightsaber as the blade she intended to use, made her vows. Then she knelt in the centre of the ring of chairs while Mace, eyes distant, face impassive, ignited his lightsaber to shear off her Padawan braid. She kept her gaze focussed on the opposite wall as he took hold of the slender plait, symbolic of the link between them, and stretched it taught. There was a flash of purple in the corner of her eye, and then the scent of burning hair as the tug on her scalp relaxed.

Severed.

She closed her eyes, catching the tears before they fell.

* * *

Plagueis dropped to the floor, the sabre-wound in his chest still smoking. Life seemed to leave his body with an almost visible release – one moment he had been a breathing, fighting, sentient being, and the next he was just a pile of bones and flesh and clothing, lying in a deserted alley, no more substantial than a lump of meat.

His apprentice looked down on him, breathing quickly from the short fight that had taken place before he had triumphed. If it hadn't been for his meticulous planning and the element of surprise, he knew he would be the dead one.

The red-headed man stood for a moment, staring reflectively at the corpse. Then, he gave a derisive snort, turned on his heel and marched decisively from the alley, taking off his black cloak and draping it over one arm.

He moved easily into the crowds on Simpla-12, becoming just another anonymous pedestrian. No one would enquire into his business, if he left theirs alone. A few coins would silence anyone on this under-developed rock, and he would be gone long before anyone found his master.

Once he was a fair distance away from the place where Plagueis's body lay, he deposited his black cloak into a waste container. The contents would be incinerated within the hour. The apprentice smiled, and headed for the port.

He boarded a shuttle to Corouscant, choosing the transport that was fastest and classiest. It would never do for him to turn up in a low-class transport. He was a Galactic official, after all. He smirked, thinking of how his master had failed, had practically asked for his death. He would make sure that didn't happen to him.

His plan was already in action.

_This isn't over,_ he thought to himself. _The galaxy will be mine. I have a plan, and I am willing to wait years for its fruition. Patience, _he thought mockingly, _something my master never had. _

As he boarded the ship, the apprentice checked his watch. If this ship left on time, he would arrive on Couroscant just in time for the Senate meeting on the aftermath of the war. He would slip neatly into his other life, like a snake shedding its skin, and his plan would have begun.

Palpatine strode onto the ship with the air of one who knows exactly where he is going, what he is going to need and how he is going to get there. He stowed his lightsaber in his bag, and settled himself in a seat, waiting for the transport to take off.

_This isn't over. _

* * *

Rain fell on Corusant. In the streets surrounding the temple, shop owners were hurrying to spread tarpaulins across their displays of droids or ranks of polished speeders, to protect them from the acid drops. Elana stood on the front steps of the temple, surveying the normal life which crowded right up to the temple walls, her ears full of the patter of rain. People swept by like fish in a river; she felt a little dazed, removed from it all, as indeed she was. She was a Jedi now. Their lives were not for her.

A small patch of stillness caught her eye. On the pedestrian walkways at ground level there was one person not hurrying along. A rather small, slender person, who stood gazing up at the temple with wide, green-gold eyes...for a moment she almost felt as though she was watching her own ghost, as she had been when she approached the temple for the first time, but then she recognised the figure.

'Tahl?'

The young Noorian started and blinked, turning her eyes from the Temple to the smaller wonder that was Elana. Because that was what she suddenly realised she was to this girl. A wonder. The girl Jedi. Everything she wanted to be.

'Hello,' she said, moving forwards, surprised by how easily the smile rose to her face. 'It's nice to see you again.'

'I...' Tahl stammered, startled by her familiar greeting. 'Y-you...you were that ...that Jedi I met in the woods...that boy...'

'Girl,' Elana said dryly. Her eyes flicked round, noting that the attention of passers-by was beginning to turn their way. Standing on the temple steps, she was highly visible, and people were pausing or even stopping dead to stare at her. The woman in Jedi garb. She felt the scepticism and hostility in their looks, and at the same time sensed the wonder in Tahl, and the hopeless longing. A hot, un-Jedi-like longing surged up inside her, to get rid of both in one stroke. Tahl shouldn't be worshipping her like this, shouldn't be shut out of the temple. And as for these others, they were about to see that woman could be Jedi, and not only could, but _would._

She hadn't given up Mace for nothing.

'I take this girl for my Padawan learner,' she said in ringing tones, walking down the temple steps and taking Tahl's hand in her own.

**A/N: Sadness, misery, and a blow struck for feminism! WOOT! Plus another EEEEVVVVIIIILLLLL moment from Essence of Gold. She does love her evil moments, or 'meanwhile, deep in the ocean chapters' as she calls them – REVIEW! to find out why. But fear not, people. We have one final chapter, and epilogue (emphasis on the 'epi' for **_**epic**_**), a great Last Chance for the hero and heroine. So what if it takes the destruction of democracy to get them together? **

**Ciao!**


	24. Epilogue

True Colours' A/N: This is the story of Challenge to the Mandate of Heaven.

**One day Essence of Gold said, 'Imagine a story where only boys could be Jedi! Mace would be Captain Chang!' True said, 'Izzy, that is genius!'**

**The two girls drifted around trying to think of a name for the fic, but they couldn't. So they went to their daddy, who knows very little about what goes on on here, but who they thought might bring a fresh eye to the subject.**

'**Call it Challenge to the Mandate of Heaven,' he said, after a bit of humming and hawing. He explained that it should be called that because in the Olden Days it was believed that Kings had a mandate from heaven (the Divine Right of Kings) to rule, and in this fic males have a mandate to be Jedi and the Jedi have a mandate to defend the galaxy. And Elana and the Sith are challenging these respective mandates. And he said that the Chinese were into ideas of this sort and concepts of heaven rather than any particular god, and so this title would sound Chinese. Because he fondly imagined that the Chinese theme was important. Little did he really know...**

**For anyone who has been looking at this title all the way through, going, 'what teh heck?' this is your answer. **

* * *

**Epilogue  
**

'Why did you testify for my trial?' she asked Dooku once. They were negotiating on Geonosis at the time, just after he had split from the Order, when he could still have been called an idealist. 'Most of the high-up Jedi were scandalised by the idea of a woman entering the sacred halls. Why did you come down on my side?'

'I spoke nothing more or less than the truth,' he answered evenly. 'I believe that I acted in the spirit of the Code.'

'Huh.' Elana jutted her chin, looking into his flat, sardonic eyes. 'I think you just enjoyed contradicting the Order at every opportunity, no matter what the circumstances.'

'Arguably,' he said, 'that's the same thing.'

'That's not true, Master Dooku,' she said. 'The Order is flawed, like any organisation, but overall it's a good thing.'

'And like any organisation, it needs its mandate challenged from time to time. Just remember this, Elana Sango. In order to function, a community needs more than fervent followers. It must have movers and shakers. Master Windu is a splendid mover. When he gives the order, someone somewhere carries it out. And you and Qui-Gon Jinn and I are shakers. Without people like us, you get stagnation. Remember that.

Dooku looked her in the face. His eyes held only the barest glimmer, hopeless and shockingly lethargic in wells of black.

'I always trained Qui-Gon to shake,' he said. 'Someone's got to stand up against that god-awful code.'

She hated Depa Billaba. When she stood amid the ranks of Jedi at the celebration on Naboo, after the defeat of the trade federation, and watched the other woman standing beside Mace, cool, grave and focussed, jealousy made her want to scream. She shouldn't have felt that way. Depa was a woman, and that made it Elana's duty more than anyone else's to support her. But instead she felt anger. It was worse because she knew that Depa did not. Depa was every inch the Jedi, calm and unattached, all the things that she herself could never be. Did that mean that Mace would like his new Padawan more than he liked her?

It was the fault of the Code. If the Code had allowed her and Mace to marry and still be Jedi, if she had felt secure in his love, she and Depa could have been friends. But as it was, she was left to wrestle with these un-Jedi-like emotions. And alone as well, because now Qui-Gon Jinn was dead.

'He died fighting for good,' she insisted. 'He died fighting for what the Order truly stands for, and the world will be a better place because of it.'

'That is true,' Dooku agreed. 'I wish there were more Jedi like him. But there are not. The Order is steering itself into trouble.'

* * *

She was inclined to agree. Everywhere she saw knights stressed, conflicted, eaten up by emotion they could not bring themselves to acknowledge. She helped them when she could, letting them release a little of their emotion into her, instead of into the Force. It was easier because she was not on the Council, and so didn't have to keep the rules as rigidly as a Jedi Master. She was not a Master, but she was still well-respected. Was she not the one who had defied the Order, the one who had staved off the Sith while only a Padawan, the first girl Jedi? She was glad that she had a reputation, because it meant that the young ones came to her for advice. And when they did, she tried to give them a break. Positive subversion, Qui-Gon had called it. Break the Code for the good of the Order.

She met the young knight Anakin Skywalker once, stomping down the corridor, as close to storming as he could get without bringing a dozen reprimands down on his head.

'Why so down in the mouth, Skywalker?' she asked. 'I heard that you were accepted onto the Council only this morning.'

'Yes, Master,' he mumbled, eyes on the ground. It always felt a little odd when people addressed her that way, even after so many years. 'Master' was so masculine-sounding. 'It is a great honour,' Skywalker continued.

'But?' she said dryly.

He looked up at her and the words came out in a rush. 'But they won't make me a Master. I know that to be accepted onto the Council is a great honour, but this feels...it feels like a personal slight, Master. It's as though they're still trying to find ways to cut me out. It's worse than just not having been accepted in the first place.'

Elana nodded slowly, feeling satisfaction. Because she seemed gentler, as a woman, and because she had the reputation for rebelliousness, he had already been coaxed into explaining his feelings in more depth. Now she let a little of Caleb Sango seep into her voice and posture as she replied:

'I get it, Skywalker, but seriously, being made a Master isn't that big a deal. Trust me, Knights have all the fun. I expect you'll find being on the Council is grim enough, but if they made you a Master...well, that would be the final knot. All you'd get to do is sit around tables piffling about the Code. I don't know when the last time is that Master Ki-Adi had a good fight. At least this way you keep a little of your independence.'

'But Master, they don't trust me! Master Windu still doesn't trust me, even after all I've done for the Order! I feel...I feel as though he's hated me from the moment I came here.'

'Mace Windu can be...a bit grumpy, sometimes,' Elana admitted. 'I was his Padawan, y'know,' she added after a pause.

'Really? You were?'

'Yeah, and I don't think he liked me that much either, to begin with. But if it's any comfort to you, he warmed up to me eventually. After I'd saved his life and screwed up the Siths' plans twice.'

Anakin even grinned a little bit. 'Master,' he said cautiously, 'may I ask you a question?'

'Fire away.'

'Well, you have one of the highest midi-chlorian counts in the temple...you were the first female Jedi, and you stopped the Sith when you were just a Padawan...'

'All true. Your point?'

'Well, you and...and Master Qui-Gon. I'm sorry,' he added hastily, 'if it's insensitive to mention him, but he brought me to the temple and I...well, I've always missed him.'

'Of course,' Elana said. 'Don't worry. Carry on.'

'I always wondered...why neither of you was ever on the Council.'

'Has it ever occurred to you that the Council are not the only ones with power in this Order?' she said evenly. 'Qui-Gon preferred his freedom.'

'And you, Master?'

'Oh, I just generally preferred not to join the Council,' Elana shrugged. 'What the eye doesn't see, the heart doesn't grieve over.'

'Master?'

Anakin was giving her a sharp, puzzled look. She took a deep breath and then spoke more quietly. 'Are you familiar with the feeling,' she asked, 'that you absolutely must be with someone? But sometimes, especially if you want to keep your place in the Order, it's best to do the opposite and stay as far away from them as possible.' She paused. 'You can't juggle two lives forever, you know.'

'Are you suggesting –' he began sharply, but she cut him off.

'Sss-ssh. It takes one to know one.'

* * *

'Shakers,' Dooku said, staring at her darkly from across the room. 'No organisation can survive without them, and a mover definitely can't. Make sure you keep shaking up Mace for me, Elana Sango, now that I'm gone.'

'Dooku went to the dark side with his eyes open,' she told Anakin. 'Remember, goodness isn't like a mountain you have to climb, to reach the peak of perfection. Goodness is a balance. You can back away from one edge and fall off the other.' Watching him bow and retreat down the corridor, eying her dubiously after her cryptic statement, Elana thought of Dooku. Had refusing a place on the Council been the Jedi way? He had told her to shake up Mace, not to skulk down the corridors while he gave the Padawans a hard time. What was right? What was wrong? She thought of Qui-Gon Jinn, and a tear squeezed from between her closed eye lids.

_Three weeks later_

It had been decades since the Sith war. Since then, she had spoken to Mace at length no more than five or ten times. She had meticulously avoided it, passing with her eyes down in corridors, sending a Padawan or younger Knight with a message for him rather than delivering it herself, even passing up a seat on the council. It might seem childish – it _was _childish – to spend so long avoiding as she had told Anakin, what the eye doesn't see, the heart doesn't grieve over. The less she saw of Mace, the better. It made it easier for both of them.

Elana sighed, walking down the corridor and stepping into the lift. This life she had made for herself... it wasn't what she had envisaged when she had made the decision to stay here, to choose the order over Mace, all those years ago.

Out of the main doors of the Jedi temple and down the majestic flight of steps. Elana remembered the day when she had clambered out of a cheap taxi and made her way up these steps at the age of nineteen, filled with anxiety and excitement. As she was a Jedi master, nobody looked twice as she exited temple bounds, as they would have done if she were some feckless knight or Padawan. She was a staid master, going for a quiet, late-evening stroll. The contrast between the two images nearly made her laugh.

She ran a hand through her hair – duller now, and with the slightest suggestion of greyness – and stepped out into the surging, life-filled metropolis of Corouscant.

* * *

'_A Sith Lord?'_

'Yes. He told me his plans, and tried to convince me to join him. I refused, and came directly to you, Master.'

Mace shook his head violently, barely able to comprehend this bombshell. He had disliked Palpatine, suspected him of being less than honest, but a _Sith..._

'Are you sure about this?' he demanded, his robes swirling about him as he swung to face Skywalker.

'Absolutely,' Anakin said solemnly, and Mace admitted to himself, unwillingly, that this boy was speaking with utmost seriousness. He would have to put his dislike for Skywalker aside and trust him on this. Immediate action was needed.

He spoke slowly, choosing his words with care. 'Skywalker. If what you have told me is true, you have gained my trust.' He allowed just a hint of comradeship and approval into his voice. At least Anakin had told him straight away. He was grateful to him for that.

Mace began to stride about, making preparations. He would need two or three skilled Jedi to come with him – he must pick carefully, but quickly. They would leave right away.

Anakin cleared his throat awkwardly from behind him. 'Master Windu... please allow me to come with you.'

'No,' Mace said automatically, and then added quickly, 'your feelings toward the Chancellor may hinder your ability to deal with him in the necessary way. That is why I cannot allow you to come.' Mace knew better than most the distraction strong feelings could create. He wasn't going to take any risks.

'You're going to kill him, then,' Anakin said quietly. It wasn't a question.

'It is what is necessary, for the good of the Republic. Please return to the main temple now, Skywalker, and await our return.'

Anakin looked as though he were about to argue, but then suddenly turned and strode away down the hangar, his cloak billowing out behind him.

Fifteen minutes later, and Mace, Kit Fisto and two other skilled Knights were gathered at the exit to the temple.

'Do you think five will be enough, Master?' asked one Knight nervously. 'Maybe we should bring another person...'

'Who do you suggest, who would be up to the job?' asked Mace briskly.

'What about Elana Sango?' suggested Fisto. 'She's getting on a little, but I've never seen her lose a duel to – '

'I think five will be enough,' Mace said abruptly, cutting across Kit. 'But now, we must hurry. Palpatine may already know we are on our way.'

There were a few raised eyebrows, but nobody commented, and the group moved off toward the small speeder that was waiting for them at the bottom of the Senate steps. Mace cursed himself for allowing his emotions to show so strongly, albeit for a brief moment. As the speeder moved off into the crawling Corouscant traffic, he reasoned with himself. Having... _Master Sango _there would only distract him. Yes. That was it – of course. This mission would be difficult and dangerous enough without having to worry about her.

_Worry about her... more than the rest, Mace?_

He wasn't trying to protect Elana. He wasn't. See – even the _thought_ of her was a distraction.

Sometimes Mace wondered if Ki-Adi was right, and allowing women to join the order had been a bad idea from the start.

* * *

Elana headed in no particular direction. She walked in whichever direction seemed to be most interesting, trusting that the majestic (pretentious?) tower of the Jedi temple would lead her back from almost anywhere she could get to on foot. If the worst came to the worst, she could stop a speeder. Everybody knew where the Jedi Temple was. Life was simple for her; the plain cloak and tunic she wore in various shades of brown marked her out amongst the chaotic smorgasbord of Corouscant fashion. An aging Jedi, out amongst the populace. She wasn't jostled by the people who passed her – she could, for the most part, pass freely through, receiving furtive glances of respect, curiosity... and, more noticeably since the start of the Clone Wars, fear.

The worst time to feel alone is in a crowd.

It was growing dark quickly now, and a little cold. The sun had disappeared beneath the Corouscant Skyline, the sky was fading from duck-egg green to deep blue, and parts of the darkening city were beginning to turn on their lights. Not a star was visible, though – light pollution from the city beat them to it, Elana thought. She remembered going into the countryside of Alderaan to watch stars with her father, as a child. On Corouscant, she wondered, did small children wish upon the first street-light of the evening?

She had arrived in the semi-derelict, lower-class housing area below where the Senate house towered, grand and imposing in its height, dwarfing the tower-blocks below. Slightly to her left, under the shadow of a tower block, she noticed a three children packing up a small, scrap-plastic stand of some sort. Curious, Elana drew closer, and managed to read the hand-drawn sign attached to the front: _home-made Oro sticks – 2 credits for 6!_

Elana continued forward with new eagerness. She hadn't had oro for a _long _time – the sweetened Alderaanian snacks were a childhood favourite of hers. She recalled trying to make them from scratch with Behra a few times, with semi-edible results. It was good to hear people still ate them.

'Excuse me?' she said. The tallest of the children turned around hastily, defensiveness flashing across his face as he took in her age and Jedi attire.

'What? We're not doing nothing wrong, are we? Just sellin' our oro sticks we made fresh this morning, see...'

Elana felt a pang at his distrustful attitude, but pulled a smile onto her face and held up her hands in a pacifying gesture. 'No, no – of course you're not. I just wanted to purchase some of your goods – unless you're finished for the day?' she gestured questioningly toward the two younger children, who had broken off their packing to stare.

The boy processed her words, and then relaxed a little. 'No problem – just lemme get some for you...' he turned to the other children and relayed their conversation in a mutter. A grubby-looking little girl nodded and passed him a bag, from which he produced six largeish, slightly sticky oro sticks, wrapped in a paper napkin, and handed them over to Elana.

'There you go – and – uh, that'll be...' he trailed off, not quite daring to ask Elana directly for the money.

'Two credits? Here you are,' Elana dug around in her tunic pocket and produced two round coins, handing them to the boy. Then she extricated one of the oro sticks from its napkin and unceremoniously took a bite. It was far better than anything she and Behra had succeeded at in their oro-making phase.

'These are really good,' she complimented the children, astonishing them by talking with her mouth full. 'Where did you get the bark from...?'

* * *

Mace was astonished.

Every one of the team he had brought with him – himself excepted – had been slaughtered before they had been in the room for five minutes, Palpatine's sudden, vicious attack catching them by surprise. He alone had managed to fight back, using Form VII to match the Sith's aggression blow for blow, but he was astonished at the force with which the old man was fighting.

But it was the lightning that really surprised him.

Now, he was barely keeping it at bay. His mind was no longer focussed; it was continually distracted between Palpatine's assault and the tortured feelings of Anakin Skywalker, watching the conflict but too conflicted to take part.

All those disturbances in the Force...how could they have failed to realise that someone was training in the ways of the Sith, mastering these dark arts right on the doorstep of the temple...

No! Don't think of that! Focus on the present!

'He...is the traitor...Anakin!' The words forced their way between his clenched teeth, distorted. Precious stamina, precious breath, but he knew that Anakin must be brought onside. It was too close. He might not win this fight alone, and it was too crucial for 'might.' But he had never dreamed that Anakin would need persuading. How had Mace allowed the Chancellor to lead one of his knights so far astray? He had always been too harsh...but he had had to see that Skywalker, brought to the temple so late, followed the Code...but was the Code worth following if it had led to this?

He didn't know. He couldn't figure this out on his own any more.

_Oh, Elana,_ he thought, and somehow he channelled the emotion and sent it roaring into his sabre's blade, and somehow the lightning had fizzled out, and Palpatine was collapsed panting on the ledge, and Mace was left reeling into the space where the enormous pressure had vanished.

He righted himself, breathless, half-snarling, and raised his lightsaber into neutral position once again. At his feet Palpatine was snivelling, his breath coming in hollow gasps.

'I...I can't hold on any longer...I'm too...too weak...'

Mace swallowed in contempt. This man had slaughtered four Jedi in the space of seconds, and now he had the cowardice, and the audacity, to beg for his own life? Well, he would not be swayed. He couldn't believe that he had won the wrestling match so easily. He would not give Palpatine an inch, a modicum of distraction...no, not even a minute's time in which to act.

'I'm going to end this, once and for all!' he declared, raising his sabre once again.

'No!' He had almost forgotten Skywalker, but now the young Knight's voice was raised in idealistic appeal. 'He must stand trial! It's not the Jedi way!'

'He's too dangerous to be left alive!' Mace shouted back. What? Was he still trying to defend his actions, to justify them with words? His faith had been rocked to its core. Maybe destroyed. He had stood by the Code, and for what? Best friend lost, love forsaken, a bloody war and Knights so conflicted they no longer even trusted the Master of the Temple. But here was one thing about which there could be no question. Here was one place where he could mete out justice with his own hand.

For one instant, Mace knew the mind of a Sith lord.

His blade came scything down.

And something blue flashed up to meet it.

Anakin had dived forward at the last minute, ignited his blade and cut off his Master's hand.

The scream that rent the building was not one of pain. Mace had borne worse pain than that. It was a scream of frustration, horror, denial, despair. He saw his lightsaber spinning away into the darkness, burning like a comet for a split-second before it extinguished itself. Somewhere, he knew, his hand still grasped the blade. A hand which a mere heartbeat ago he had been able to feel and move and touch...which did he feel the loss of more? The hand or the weapon it had held?

Then the lightning hit him, blurring his vision, lifting him off his feet. It ripped his muscles out of his control, twisted him in spasms, reduced his mind to white noise. He could hear screaming...Palpatine? Anakin? Himself? Sound had no meaning. And then he was aware of a lurching sensation and darkness enveloped him.

He opened his eyes. The office was whisking away above him. _Falling_, a tiny voice spoke in his mind, but he didn't really care. He was just glad because the pain had stopped. Of course, it hadn't really. His body was aching, twinging, burning and cramping in a hundred different ways, and he couldn't seem to think or see too clearly at all, but at least the source had been removed. The wind was pleasantly cool to his burning skin. It was rushing past him quite fast now, and there was a steadily increasing roar in his ears.

_Have I reached terminal velocity yet?_ he wondered.

Then impact.

Darkness.

* * *

Elana hugged the steaming cup of caff tightly to herself, hunching her body around it's comforting warmth. Outside the ship's window, the beautiful, blue-white chaos of hyperspace flew past – it seemed so serene compared to the emotions that saturated Elana as her little ship travelled through it. Two types of chaos – one was perfect, and one was just a mess.

The Jedi temple had fallen. She knew that.

_A sudden, jarring feeling in the Force ripped through her, and Elana gasped, her last two oro falling to the ground. Guided by the Force, her head snapped up to stare at the darkening sky, and the black face of the Senate offices that cut across it. _

_At of the corner of her eye, she could see the children looking at her on astonishment, and the beginnings of nervousness began to dawn on their faces. _

'_Master, what's...'_

_And then there was a smash, and on the highest floor of the senate, there was a flash of unnatural, blue-white lightning. _

_The youngest girl screamed, and her brothers yelled in shock. Elana craned her neck to focus fully to the high window, shaking as she felt indescribable emotions of pain, betrayal, anger... and then she realised, with a surge of horror, that they were Mace's. _

_He was fighting a Sith Lord up there._

_And then the lightning stopped, and Skywalker had arrived. She felt a surge of hope, but a few moments later, there was an audibly cry of agony from the window. A long, tumbling streak of light fell from the window. The glow blinked out, and something clattered onto the pavement in front of them. _

_Elana moved her body so that she was in front of the children, and the, fighting every instinct of repulsion at what she knew the object was, summoned it with the force into her hands. _

_For a split second, she stared wordlessly at Mace's purple lightsaber, and with it, his hand._

_And then the lightning started again. _

_This time, the sizzle of it was audible, and beneath it, she could hear yells and screams, the sound of destruction itself, and then the lightning extended beyond the window, carrying something dark and shapeless before it. _

'MACE!_' ... _

* * *

Elana had had to time it very carefully. The second the Sith's lightning left Mace's body, and allowed it to fall naturally, she had reached out with the Force. Carefully, subtly, she had begun to pull his descent around into her direction. She had waited until the last flickers of light had left his body – any possible bond of senses the Sith Lord might have to his being – before she really began to pull in earnest.

It had been hard work. But slowly, eventually, she had managed to bring him to a halt, just a few metres from the ground, and right in front of her. She had stepped forward, held out her arms, and let Mace's body flop into them. She had checked for a pulse. He had been alive – but only just.

Then she had sent the children away. She had told them, solemnly, that they must promise never to tell anyone what they had seen, for their own safety. They had agreed just as solemnly. But as they had walked away with their makeshift store, Elana had reached out, with the little mental strength she had left, and wiped a blank hand over their meeting. They had watched the sun go down behind the city skyline, eaten a few Oros, and found two credits in the gutter. Then they had gone home.

The next thing Elana did was go to her ship, and began treating Mace.

She finished the last dregs of the caff and sighed. T0315, her droid, had completely remade the ship's core memory for her. It was now a Procopian _G-fly _cruiser, with no association or contact to the Jedi order whatsoever. Elana trusted him, but decided she would give in the ship for scrap as soon as she got to their destination, just in case – and have TO315 wiped too. She had never quite regained her trust for droids after discovering the Sith's plans on Alderaan. You never quite knew what they kept locked away in their memory banks, or what they were capable of with the right codes.

Beside her, the intercom crackled, and, thoroughly spooked with her thoughts of traitor-droids, she gasped. For a moment she was positive that she had been intercepted, but then a voice came through, a voice she recognised.

'Master Sango?'

'Senator Organa!' she exclaimed. Behra's husband, and once of the very few senators the Order had still trusted. She had never been so glad to hear anyone in her life.

'Bail, I'm so –' She stopped herself quickly. 'Is this line safe?'

'Don't worry. We're not in the City; we're calling from a small clone transport in orbit. My droid is scanning the area. There's no radio signal apart from yours and mine.'

'How did you know it was me?'

'Master Yoda and General Kenobi are with me. They sensed your presence in the Force.'

Elana closed her eyes for a moment, suddenly overwhelmed. When she'd been running for the hanger, praying that she would arrive before the Sith's clones secured the area, knowing full well what was going on in the temple, she had been certain that she would never hear those words again. But the Order had survived. Her and Mace, and now Obi-Wan and Master Yoda. Already more than she had dared to hope for. _They felt your presence in the Force_. The teaching was still alive.

'Obi-wan has been in the Temple,' Bail said. 'He saw the –'

'I know,' Elana cut him off brusquely.

'I'm sorry,' Bail said softly, and filled her in on everything that had happened during the hours she'd spent in silence on her craft, getting away and tending to Mace. Elana listened quietly as he told of Yoda and Obi-wan's twin duels, of the slaughter of Jedi all over the galaxy, of Anakin Skywalker's defeat.

_That was a short career as a Sith he had,_ she thought – hysterically, probably – and asked, 'Is he dead?'

'...Master Yoda and Obi-wan weren't too clear on that,' Bail said slowly. 'They talked about him in the past tense, as though he were dead, but they seemed to imply...they talked about Force signatures...I don't know. I think what they meant was, the Anakin we know is dead. I don't know about the new one.'

'Right,' Elana said grimly. There was a pause, then:

'Master Sango, what should we do?'

She had already asked herself that one, and now the words came to her lips, heavily but without hesitation.

'There's nothing we can do.'

'Master!' There was a shocked pause. 'Yoda and Obi-Wan were behaving like that, they've been talking about what to do with the child...but I can't just sit here and do _nothing_!'

'Bail,' she said gently, 'most of the Order are dead. I was listening over the radio when Sidious made his announcement – I heard how it was received. The most you can do for now is go back to Alderaan. You're in a position of power there. Do everything you can to prevent this dictatorship from taking hold there. It's my home planet, it means a lot to me. But it's not hopeless. People like you are still in power, Master Yoda and Master Kenobi and I are all alive...and Bail, I've got Mace with me.'

'Master Windu?' he exclaimed.

'Don't shout that,' she said. 'Not even on a safe line. Sidious himself thinks he's dead. He hasn't woken up yet. But tell the Masters he's alive, would you? They'll be glad to know.'

'Yes.' She heard him sigh. They were close to a parting; she knew he could feel it. The remaining Jedi would have to go into hiding, and he couldn't afford to have any more contact with them if he was to hold on to his power. At last he spoke.

'What will you do, Elana?' he asked.

'Find somewhere quiet to settle down and bide my time. You're right, we have to do something. But not today. Some day there'll be a resistance, and then you can head it up.'

'You won't come back to Alderaan?'

'No. It's too close to the heart of the Empire, and I'm known there. Not Mace's planet either. Someone would come looking eventually. I think I'll go to Naboo.'

'Palpatine's own planet?'

'Why not? I always wanted to spend some time there. It's on the outer rim, but it's not too far away from civilisation. Nice place for a respectable retiree to settle down. Tell that to Obi-wan and Yoda, will you? Just so that you all know where I am, in case you ever need a Jedi.'

'I will.'

'Thank you. And Bail?'

'Yes?'

'Say hi to Behra for me.'

He promised he would, and the radio clicked off. Alone in the sudden silence, Elana felt herself blinking back tears. She would make sure she saw them all again someday, but for now she was on her own. Except for Mace. And _that _was going to be awkward when she woke up.

Elana blinked. The Behra-voice was back.

She smiled ruefully and fingered the hem of her shirt. Of course, she couldn't dress as a Jedi now; luckily she'd had some civilian clothes stashed away in her ship, all of which were fairly unisex, so Mace would be okay too. She had cut her hair, too – feeling again that childish sentimentality as she sliced through her long, tumbling hair, and was left with a neat, sensible bob.

They had to totally disappear, be nothing, and tell no-one. Jedi would be dying now, all over the galaxy. While Anakin had pledged his loyalty to the Sith Lord – Elana felt a twinge of pain in her chest – _Palpatine – _both of them had left their thoughts quite unguarded. It had been easy for Elana to learn Sidious's plans straight from his mind. But there was nothing they could do, if they wanted to remain safe themselves. Elana had tended Mace's wounds, and covered their own tracks, and felt the indescribable guilt weighing down on her all the time.

He was asleep now, his heart-rate steady. She was in the medical bay of her ship, sitting by his bed, and setting down her sixth cup of caff on a table next to her. He would wake up soon, and she would have to explain everything. How they would have to start a new life, both of them. But not together. Not if he didn't want to. _Swallow. _They could go their separate ways once they reached Naboo...

And then she realised his eyes were open, and her was looking at her.

Her own weariness was forgotten, as were her calm greetings, her mentally rehearsed explanation and pretty much every other sane thought in her head. She wondered how long he'd been awake without her noticing. All she could do was stare at him, her heart racing, feeling exactly like a nineteen year-old girl again, and waiting for him to speak.

And he did.

And he didn't say, _'where am I?'_

'_What happened?'_

'_Why am I here?'_

Or any of the other things Elana had expected him to.

What he did say was this.

'Elana, I love you. Will you marry me?'

'Yes.'

And that, she supposed, was all that really needed to be said.

**THE END**

**

* * *

**

Izzy's (Essence of Gold's) A/N: So. That's the end of Challenge to the Mandate of Heaven. I CAN'T BELIEVE WE FINISHED IT! Sorry. Just freaking out there. But it's done and dusted, and now we just have to update it and wait for the reviews to roll in...

**Speaking of which. THANK YOU soooooo much to all the people who read and reviewed this story, especially to our amazing friend **_**Gallica, **_**who has reviewed every chapter without fail, and is currently translating CttMoH into FRENCH! How cool is that? Also to our little brother, and our parents, for the constant emotional support (even though we didn't let you read some bits, which you, mother, read anyway!) throughout, and to Dad especially for thinking up the name.**

A big disclaimer and 'thanks' to both George Lucas and Walt Disney, because without the inspiration Star Wars and Mulan, this story would never have existed. Especial kudos for creating the characters of Mulan, Captain Chang and Mace Windu. XD

**Also, from me personally, a HUGE HUGE thank-you to ****True Colours****, sister, co-author, who it goes without saying was half the brains in this operation, and probably wrote more than half of it altogether, once all that slash *ahem* was done. Thanks so much, True!**

**And on that note, **_**au revoir, **_**and we hope you enjoyed Challenge to the Mandate of Heaven!**

**Izzyxox**

**

* * *

**

True's (True Colours') A/N: Wow. I get a thank you from Essence? Even after I stole her bunny and turned it from light crossover comedy to a year-long head-wall disturbia-fest, and destroyed her innocence, all in one fell swoop? Wow. I guess I maybe helped with some bits that weren't related to the slash...but whatever. I like to think it added depth and an intriguing twist to the story. That is what I like to think.

**Anyway, we have hacked our way through the jungle that is my brain, and this is the result. Yes! I am free! I would also like to recommend Jedi Lulz and all my fics...yeah, those...and to reiterate Izzy's thanks to Daddy, for thinking of the title. I am convinced that this title is almost wholly responsible for the lack of reviews, because it sounds so highbrow...hmm, would**_** I **_**read anything that was called Challenge to the Mandate of Heaven? I would now!...but the point is, whether for good or no, it was **_**named**_**, and a fic must have a name, and we'd never have thought of one without him. When I typed 'no' back there? I did it on purpose. And the other point is that CttMoH is now the awesome reduction of the title, and you can chant it along to the start of Poker Face along with those creepy bass voices, and really, what more can you ask of a title?**

**True xxx**

**(I'm not crazy really.)**

**

* * *

**

And... the CttMoH 'Feelings' Playlist:

**For Elana's leaving Alderaan: Breakaway by Kelly Clarkson**

**For the arrival at the Jedi Temple and her first few weeks there: Aserejé by Las Ketchup or 'A man out of you' from Mulan (hahaha, our Muse!)**

**For her initial crush on Mace: Automatic High by S Club Juniors (barf-worthy, I know, but...)**

**For Mace when he's like 'OMGosh I like Caleb': Disturbia by Rihanna (lol)**

**For Elana after their first kiss: Hot 'n' Cold by Katy Perry**

**For both of them after their SECOND kiss: Waterloo by ABBA**

**For Elana's false 'desertion' of the Order to Mace: Behind these hazel eyes by Kelly Clarkson**

**For the buildup / final battle: If this is love by The Saturdays**

**For the aftermath, before Elana makes her decision: Reflection from Mulan**

**For the first part of the Epilogue: What hurts the most by Cascada or Because of you by Kelly Clarkson **

**For the end: Every day from HSM 2.**

* * *

**I can't believe we ended our story, last line, with HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL. I suppose all roads really do lead to Disney.**

But I don't want it to, so I'm going to write a little extra something here.

Mace and Elana  
Happily ever after  
Jedi, but in love.

**It's a haiku, see! I feel so smart. :D**

**So on that note, we really, really WILL leave it. Before we do something stupid. And also, if you're down that this story's over... Go check out our other fics! And... WE CAN FINALLY, FINALLY CHANGE THAT LITTLE BOX ON THE STORY INFO. PAGE TO **_**COMPLETE! **_**Love you all,**

**Izzy and True**

**Co-Authors to Challenge to the Mandate of Heaven **

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxo**


End file.
